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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






IB 



GETHSEMANI. 



MEDITATIONS ON THE LAST BAY ON EARTH 



OCK BLESSED REDEEMER. 



TEE RIGHT REV. MONSIGM T, S.^RESTON, V.G., LL.B, 



r^ 



Domestic Prelate of His Holiness Leo XI 11. 




NEW YORK : 

robert coddington, 

246 Fourth Avenue. 

1887. 



Copyright, 1887, 
By ROBERT CODDINGTON. 



f 






WASHINGTON 



H. J. HEWITT, PRINTER, 27 ROSE STREET, NEW VORK. 



Dedication* 



DEDICATED 



MY DEAR CHILDREN IN RELIGION, LOVERS OF JEStJS, 
AND SPOUSES OP THE HEAVENLY BRIDEGROOM, 

AND 

Go the Sacrefc Memory 

OP THOSE WHO HAVE GONE BEFORE ME 
TO THEIR REST IN HIS ARMS. 



PREFACE. 



This little book is a companion to 
" The Watcli on Calvary," which was 
published two years ago. It begins 
with the scenes of the last day of Our 
Lord's life, and follows Him to the 
garden of Gethsemani, and thence to 
Calvary. The two books of medita- 
tion form a continuous story of the 
Passion in all its leading particulars. 
Utterly inadequate as human words 
are to describe the fearful anguish of 
our dearest Redeemer, the imperfect 
attempt here made may, with the 
blessing of God, assist some souls in 
the study of the cross, which is the 
science of saints. It may be my de- 



4 PREFACE. 

feet, but I cannot write of Our Lord's 
sufferings in the ordinary style. I 
have tried to place the lover of Jesus 
in sight of the sorrows which he de- 
scribes, and have given place to the 
affections which the heart prompts. It 
was a great consolation to me to know 
that the " Watch on Calvary" was 
appreciated by some souls who are 
seeking to live in constant communion 
with the Sacred Heart. And it was 
really at the solicitation of some of 
my children in religion that I under- 
took the more difficult task of writing 
meditations upon the inconceivable 
agony of Jesus. Therefore to them I 
dedicate the little work, and I rely 
upon their prayers that our most com* 
passionate Master may in mercy bless 
this poor effort to His greater glory 
and the sanctification of souls. 

And I recall the sacred memory of 
those who have gone before me to 



PREFACE. 

their celestial Spouse. Though they 
are far from me in the presence of 
the King, yet are they also near me 
by prayer and mutual love of Him 
who is indeed our All. They form a 
part of my life, they will not forget 
my needs, and they are my interces- 
sors before the throne. We live not 
in the presence of things seen, but in 
the realization of things unseen and 
eternal. 

So in utter self-abasement, and simple 
reliance upon God, I commend this 
" Gethsemani " to the patient and mer- 
ciful Heart of Jesus. 

T. S. P. 

Octave of the Epiphany, 1887. 



CONTENTS. 



MEDITATION FIRST. 
The Garden op Gethsemani, .... . 11 

MEDITATION SECOND. 
The Agony op Fear, . 67 

MEDITATION THIRD. 
The Agony op Loneliness, . . . . . . . .91 

MEDITATION FOURTH. 
The Agony op Sadness, . 115 

MEDITATION FIFTH. 
The Agony op Pain, 141 

MEDITATION SIXTH. 
The Agony op a Wounded Heart, 165 

MEDITATION SEVENTH. 
Jesus Condemned to Death, 201 

MEDITATION EIGHTH. 
The Way to Calvary, 275 



Meditation First. 



THE GARDEN OF GETESEMANI. 



MEDITATION FIRST. 



THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANI. 



" When Jesus had said these things, He went forth with His 
disciples over the brook Cedron, where there was a garden, into 
which He entered."— St. John xviii. 1. 

" And He saith to His disciples: Sit you here while I pray. And 
He taketh Peter, James, and John with Him. And He saith to 
them: Stay you here and watch."— St. Mark xiv. 32, 33, 34. 

There was a night in the life of our 
beloved Redeemer unequalled in its deep 
darkness by any night this world has 
ever known. There have been nights of 
physical darkness when created light 
seemed to be lost, and the pall of terror 
has covered the earth. There have been, 
and there shall be, "signs in the sun and 
in the moon and in the stars ; and upon 
the earth distress of nations, when men 



12 GETHSEMANT. 

wither away for fear and expectation of 
what shall come upon the whole world." * 
There have been, and there shall be, to 
many souls nights of sorrow so profound 
that the intelligence seems buried in 
depths of woe, where created life is a 
mockery and the light uncreated is 
hidden, where some unseen hand with 
fearful agony touches the strings of the 
aching heart, where nothing less than di- 
vine power holds the soul that it may 
suffer. There are nights when the ties of 
the creature are snapped asunder, and 
the earth is turned again to a chaos. 
There are nights when the spouses of 
Jesus Christ are in their Gethsemani, 
and the Beloved cannot be found. They 
seek Him among the Olive shades, and 
find Him not. They call out in anguish : 
u O Thou that dwellest in the gardens! 
make me hear Thy voice." " Arise, my 
Love, my Beautiful One, make haste and 

*St. Luke xxi, 25,26. 



GETHSEMA1ST. 13 

come." "My dove in the clefts of the 
rock, show me Thy face, let Thy voice 
sound in my ears."* There is no re- 
sponse, no sign of His presence ; and the 
storm beats upon the soul as it sinks in 
the gloom and cries out : " O my Father ! 
if it be possible let this chalice pass from 

me!"f 

Yet what are these nights compared to 
that which settled upon the Man of Sor- 
rows, the Son of God, when He entered 
into the garden, bidding the light He 
created depart, and with the majesty of 
a God welcoming the waves of superhu- 
man woe and the storms of diabolical 
rage to beat upon Him ! I have watched 
on Calvary, where He was dying for love 
of me. The earth trembled as if all 
things sensible were unanchored, and the 
powers of heaven were shaken. The 
cloud covered me, and its gloom sank into 
the depths of my being. I seemed to die 

♦Canticles ii. 10, 13, 14. t St. Matt. xxv. 39. 



14 GETHSEMAKI. 

and pass with spirits disembodied to a 
world I knew not. Yet there upon a 
cross He hung. I could see at times His 
face through my tears. I could almost 
see His smile amid His agony. And 
there amid the darkness so profound, 
amid the dashing waves of a storm that 
nearly robbed me of my reason, I heard 
His voice. He was mighty to save. He 
seemed to hold in His hand the storm 
and to be a conqueror all majestic and 
divine, even when His dying throes shook 
the cross. Yes, He, my Love, my God, 
was there in victory. He was dying, but 
He was there. 

Now I see another sight, and I know 
not bow to tell it. It is not Calvary. 
There is no band of soldiers here. I hear 
no blaspheming cry. I see no spear nor 
nail. There is a silence that moves my 
intellect and heart, and crushes me with 
its gloom. My Master and my God 
seems broken. He trembles with fear. 



GETHSEMANI. 15 

Oh ! it is awful to see Him on whom I 
lean for every strength tremble so ! He 
is so sorrowful and so sad that if I look 
at Him my heart breaks, and a sadness 
all unearthly overwhelms me. Then He 
looks at me with such a grief in His 
blessed eyes that I am almost dying. I 
hear Him say: "My soul is sorrowful 
even unto death ; stay you here and 
watch with Me." I see Him fall upon 
the ground. I hear His sighs. I see His 
tears. I listen to His piteous prayers. 
My earth is indeed shaken to its centre. 
The hands of angels hold me up, else I 
could not live and look upon this sight. 
Ah! He is bleeding now, bleeding from 
every pore, all alone, without a foe 
around Him — bleeding, as it seems, to 
death. Oh ! this is my God, the Lover of 
my soul, my Beautiful One in His crim- 
son robe ! The bleeding hands, that now 
seem so weak, are my only guides. If I 
lose my hold of them I shall wander from 



16 GETHSEMANI. 

the path of life. That broken Heart, 
from which gushes forth the all-atoning 
blood, is my only refuge. If I cannot 
rest upon it there is no healing for my 
wounds ; there can come no morning to 
my night of sorrow or of death. 

Dearest Lord, let me draw near, all un- 
worthy as I am ! Let me kneel and 
watch with Thee, where, in tearful sym- 
pathy and loving adoration, I may learn 
something of Thine agony. Here are 
depths that God alone can sound. It is 
the anguish of the Infinite. Yet Thou 
art man like me. And Thou art mine. 
Thy Blood hath washed me from my sin. 
Thy Flesh hath quickened my humanity. 
If I live, it is because Thou livest in me. 
To know Thee as Thou art is my life ; to 
be like Thee, my only hope of heaven. 
Open, then, to me the treasures of Thine 
intelligence. Let its rays descend upon 
my feeble heart. Thy night is brighter 
than the day at noon. Thou art the sun 



OETHSEMAKI. 17 

of the celestial sphere, and from Thine 
eclipse Thou canst teach me the lessons 
which Thy meridian splendor would have 
preached in vain. Do I dare where 
even angels fear to come 2 Am I pre- 
sumptuous to intrude within the secret of 
Thy sorrow? When apostles slept and 
could not see Thine awful chalice, shall 
one like me be so bold as dare to watch 
and stay with Thee ? Am I able to look 
upon Thy sweat of blood ? Can I venture 
to look within Thy bursting heart ? Cam 
I look upon Thy weeping eyes ? Dare I 
tell the thoughts which crowd upon my 
mind, and even speak to other souls the 
lessons of this awful night f 

O my most compassionate Lord! it is 
only for Thy love. It is because Thou 
art so winning in Thy crimson robe. It 
is that here Thou dost draw souls to 
Thee as nowhere else. Here Thou dost 
espouse them, and the tie is sealed 
with blood. Ohi forgive me if I err. I 



18 GETHSEMAKI. 

would not wound Thee for all that even 
heaven could give. If Thou wilt teach 
me and inspire my words, they shall 
be the adoration of my utter nothing- 
ness, the voices of my deep contrition 
for mine unworthiness. My heart shall 
ache with Thine that I have been the 
burden of Thine anguish, that the red 
drops so freely flowing must touch my 
wounds and wash my guilt aw r ay. Then 
" Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, 
and I shall be cleansed ; Thou shalt 
wash me, and I shall be made whiter 
than snow. To my hearing Thou shalt 
give joy and gladness^ and the bones 
that have been humbled shall rejoice. 
Thou shalt deliver me from blood. 
Thou shalt open my lips, and my mouth 
shall declare Thy praise. My afflicted 
spirit shall be a sacrifice to Thee. My 
contrite and humbled heart Thou wilt 
not despise."* 

* Psalm l 9-20. 



GETHSEMAM. 19 

Let me, then, recall the awful scenes 
of this night. Let me follow my Lord 
as He enters the Garden of Gethsemani, 
where He so often kept His watch of 
prayer. Let me enter with Him,, and 
there, alone with Him, let my heart 
awake. The saddest of all vigils is at 
hand. I will remember all. It was the 
last evening of His life. Three-and- thirty 
years were nearly spent ; those wondrous 
years of God Incarnate were drawing to 
their close. They had all led here. 
Surely, then, this earth was the centre 
of the universe. It would seem as if the 
shining stars looked down, and worlds on 
worlds were marching in their courses, in 
mute adoration of their King so lowly 
and so humbled. The Creator held them 
in His hand as they moved in unmeasured 
space and glorified His wilL Yet He, the 
King and Crown of all, so bowed down, 
a man despised and ignored, hides His 
heavenly splendor where want and sorrow 



20 aETHSEMAKI. 

are His daily food. The manger of Beth- 
lehem, the exile in Egypt, the hidden life 
amid the toils of Nazareth, the wonderful 
ministry, miracles of charity and grace, 
all led here. The rising and setting suns 
that marked the days of God on earth 
have nearly done their work. Slowly 
sinks the sun to its evening shades, and 
darkness is approaching. It must have 
been unlike the closing of other days. 
The sun must have trembled as for the 
last time its departing rays shone upon 
the face of its Creator about to die. 
The darkness that came must have been 
filled with sadness, as if the whole earth 
were about to be a grave. Yes, it is the 
last day on earth of Jesus ! How did He 
spend it ? What were the words and 
deeds of this last evening? Precious to 
the lover are the last moments of the 
Beloved. How did this Sun of justice 
and of mercy go down? Let me gather 
up the last rays of its decline. On this 



GETHSEMAET. 21 

final day there was a wonderful change 
in the face and form and bearing of 
my Beloved. The sweetness of heaven 
dwelt upon Him and spoke from every 
look and feature. There was a tender- 
ness in all He said and did which was 
unlike the gentleness of former days. 
It seemed as if His heart were bursting 
with love, as if He were to say farewell 
and could not speak the word. The 
sadness that clothed Him was too deep 
for human eyes to read ; but it made 
Him so winning that love mounted to 
the heights of adoration when it looked 
upon Him. Surely one day like this 
should have drawn all hearts, should 
have conquered every rebel will. He went 
to the house in Bethany where true 
hearts had often given rest to His wearied 
head. Once more the Magdalen shall 
claim her privilege. Her love and sym- 
pathy shall ease His heart ; her touch 
shall soothe His aching head. Once she 



22 GETHSEMANI. 

poured .the ointment upon His blessed 
feet, when the tears of her repentance 
flowed so fast that He forgave her sin 
and washed its guilt away. Now that 
she is His, she shall dare to touch His 
sacred head. There where the blows of 
scorn shall fall, where the crown of thorns 
shall make its feverish wounds, the oint- 
ment shall be poured. The touch of love 
adoring, love above the love of man, shall 
speak to the precious face so soon to be 
scarred and bruised as if there were none 
to care, none to do Him reverence. With 
what affection and tenderness does the 
penitent kneel before Him ! To her quick 
perceptions there is something never be- 
fore seen in His look and in every move- 
ment. Even the tones of His voice are 
changed. He is the same, and yet there 
is a kind of transformation. His heart is 
overburdened, and His eyes seem to look 
far beyond the things of sense. Some 
terrible grief is upon Him which the quick 



GETHSEMAIQ. 23 

eyes of love can see in that face always 
full of the divine serenity, but now look- 
ing in all its infinite peace as if He were 
hurt to the depths of His soul. How can 
she comfort Him now? There are no 
words. The crushed heart has no lan- 
guage. In memory of the blessed scene 
that opened to her the gates of life and 
gave her again the innocence of youth, 
she seeks once more the precious oint- 
ment. It will tell all. It is the language 
of her love: "My Master, if I loved 
Thee then, oh ! what art Thou to me now 
that I have given Thee all my heart, 
that I have tasted of Thy sweetness, that 
my whole being is bound up in Thee ! " 
So from her hands flows the ointment 
upon the sacred head. It fills the pre- 
cious hair ; it runs down upon the majes- 
tic forehead ; it bedews the blessed face. 
The Master feels the touch of sympathy, 
and the incense of her love brings new 
tenderness to His eyes as they look 



24 GETHSEMAKI. 

upon her with a new affection and smile 
through tears. They seem to say: u O 
child redeemed by My blood, washed by 
My hands, and bound to Me now by ho- 
liest ties, little dost thou know the way 
of sorrow that is before Me. You could 
not go with Me where I would not even 
take My Mother. I must go alone. I am 
going to die a. cruel death. This is My 
last day among the children I have come 
to save. But oh ! this farewell, this death 
were little to the sorrows of this night. 
They are coming fast. I feel their power 
now. I am hardly now Myself, they 
overwhelm Me so. Do you know what 
your dear hands have done ? You have 
anointed Me for the silent grave. To- 
morrow night you will seek Me in the 
sepulchre. My limbs shall lie upon the 
stone. My hands and feet, all torn and 
swollen from the nails, shall be cold in 
death. My heart, whose tremulous beat- 
ing you can feel, shall be pierced with 



GETHSEMANX. 25 

the soldier's spear. This head you have 
prepared for its resting-place within the 
tomb. The face you love shall be bruised 
with blows. The crown of thorns shall 
leave its cruel wounds where now your 
ointment flows. These eyes shall have no 
more tears to shed ; they shall be closed 
within the grave. Look at Me, My pre- 
cious child, and wonder,, not that I am 
sad. But all of this My death you may 
see. You may follow in the steps of her 
I love beyond all save God. You may 
come and see Me die. But where I go 
this night you cannot come, and I cannot 
tell you of its woe. Before I die there 
is something worse than death. My last 
night shall be a night indeed. The Eter- 
nal Spirit and the angels who are set to 
guard My humanity are bearing Me now 
to the garden of My sorrow. Oh ! how 
fast the hours are running ! I can hard- 
ly now restrain My sweat of blood. I 
must go. Farewell until you meet Me 



26 GETHSEMAISTI. 

» 

on Calvary. I must fulfil My heart's 
desire, make My testament, and leave 
My legacy of love. Then in My short, 
suffering life I have done all that even 
God can do. You have heard the mur- 
murs of My disciple. He has grudged 
the waste of this anointing. He can- 
not see the wounds he so unfeelingly 
inflicts upon Me. He has no knowledge 
of My grief, no compassion for a heart 
like Mine, that shrinks and trembles at 
ingratitude. Even now he has gone to 
sell Me to My enemies ; and he My 
friend, whom I have kissed, will come to 
break upon My scene of agony, and with 
a band of ruffians he will seize Me as I 
faint beneath the Olive shades. I am 
God. I am his friend. He will sell Me 
for a price. I am valued at thirty pieces 
of silver. He will make his bargain, and 
he will betray Me with a kiss. Now 
while I leave you, and with the few who 
are true to Me pass on to celebrate the 



GETHSEMANI. 27 

mystic rite which this night shall find its 
first fulfilment, he has done his work. I 
am sold. Then he will come to the supper 
of the Passover and sit beside Me. Oh! 
tell me, was ever sorrow like to Mine?" 

With eyes that strained their powers to 
see the last vision of her Love, the Mag- 
dalen, followed Him as with His disciples 
He slowly passed away. Then, when she 
could see Him no longer, and there was 
no relief for her aching heart, she fell 
upon her knees in prayer, and all this 
awful night she watched, while grief as 
from another world engulfed her within 
its shadows. It was her night of agony 
with Him, although so far away and she 
so helpless to console Him. 

We follow Him as He goes along the 
way to Jerusalem. In after-years how 
those disciples remembered the steps of 
this sad journey ! He spoke but little. 
His form was bent. Now and then He 
would lean upon St. Peter or St. John, 



28 GETHSEMA1STI. 

and seem to gather comfort from their 
truth. His eyes were often filled with 
tears. And as the Holy City with its 
temple came in sight, His sobs could 
not be restrained. The King was coming 
to His regal city, not amid hosannas or 
the cries of welcome, but as a stranger to 
the home which had forsaken Him. The 
cries of " Crucify Him!" should sound 
to-morrow, and He was coming there to 
die. The hill of sacrifice was near. The 
scene of to-morrow's tragedy was close at 
hand, and the cross was already hewn 
and ready. He entered within the city's 
gates. It was the eve of the great fes- 
tival, and amid the throngs no one no- 
ticed the Nazarene and His poor follow- 
ers. He passes through the narrow street. 
The house is open and the room is pre- 
pared. " His time is near at hand." No 
power can stay the fleeting hours. The 
sun has set, and the darkness of the even- 
ing is upon them, when they enter there 



GETHSEMA1ST, 29 

to celebrate the Passover. Once when the 
destroying angel stood to bring the curse 
of death upon their homes, the blood of a 
bleeding lamb was their preserver. Now 
the Lamb is here, Himself to keep the 
feast, and then fulfil the type and com- 
plete the prophecy. Around that table 
they are seated, the apostles of the New 
Law, and the Master with them. The 
Paschal Lamb is set before them. The 
seven days of unleavened bread were 
kept. Their shoes were on their feet, 
their staves were in their hands. * Was 
this a feast of joy, this memorial of a na- 
tion' s deliverance? Why, then, the sad- 
ness that from the Master fell upon the 
disciples ? Is the dread angel of death 
hovering over them, and will not the 
blood of the lamb protect them ? Alas I 
there is a mightier death at hand than 
earth has ever known. It will strike the 
Master. The destroyer will meet the 

* Exodus xii. 



30 GETHSEMANI. 

Creator. The Lamb of God, the Eternal 
Son, is to be slain. The great types of 
patriarchal days and of the Old Law are 
now to be fulfilled. While they were 
eating the Paschal Lamb the face of Jesus 
fills them with terror and apprehension of 
evil to come. A death-like paleness rests 
upon it, and life seems to be departing 
from Him. He seems to take the place of 
the lamb before them. They are feeding 
upon it now. Soon they shall feed upon 
Him. Yet there is a pause for a moment, 
as the mystic rite is finished, and He 
turns with eyes fall of unearthly agony, 
to look upon the disciples. "Are you 
not My friends in My dire extremity ? 
Will you stand between Me and the 
shadows of horror which pursue Me i 
I must tell you of the sorrow which 
breaks my heart as now I make My 
dying testament. One of you, My cho- 
sen whom I have so loved, is about to 
betray Me. He has partaken of the 



OETHSEMANI. 31 

Paschal Lamb with Me, and, traitor 
that he is, he will even partake of Me 
and feed upon the body and the blood 
in My last testament of love, the sacred 
humanity of his Master and his God, 
which he with the price of treason has 
delivered unto death- Do you wonder 
that I am sad ? You have been with 
Me in the toils and sorrows of My min- 
istry. You have seen My miracles and 
heard the words which I have spoken 
to no other ears. We have been a lit- 
tle band bound by the ties of a more 
than human friendship. The world has 
hated Me, and priests have sought My 
life. You have known Me as I have 
revealed to you My Godhead. You 
have been My comfort when the mul- 
titude has mocked Me and the rulers 
have driven Me to the mountain or 
the desert. Now the chosen band is 
broken. Fresh from My embrace the 
traitor goes, and he will find Me in 



32 0ETHSEMANI. 

My wonted place of prayer, and the 
shadows of the olive-trees shall see 
to-night the breaking heart of God's 
incarnate Son. The traitor is at My 
side ; he dips his hand in the dish 
with Me. He even looks upon My 
agonizing face with untroubled eyes, 
while your true hearts are full of sym- 
pathy and strange dismay. He asks Me 
to tell him of the treason which he 
feigns to wonder at. I give him now 
his last warning. I shall not speak 
again to him until I meet him in the 
garden, and My blood-stained lips re- 
ceive his sacrilegious kiss. Will he 
dare remain, now that he hears the voice 
of My reproach? Will he, too, kneel 
while I shall change the bread and wine 
by My creating power? Will he, too, 
feed upon the Lamb of Calvary, upon 
My Body and My Blood?" 

Now may the Spirit tell the scene. I 
see the disciples as they kneel with hearts 



GETHSEMAJNT. 33 

o'erwhelmed and heads bowed down. 
But I cannot paint my Master as He 
stands before that table. The scene is 
more than earthly. He takes upon Him- 
self the majesty of God, and yet He wears 
the utmost humility of man. I see before 
me the grandeur of the patriarchal line, 
the dignity of my first father Adam, the 
form sublime of Noe as he stood upon 
the mountain when the destroying waves 
sank away and the baptized earth slowly 
emerged from the waste of waters. I see 
the great high-priest Aaron in his sacer- 
dotal robes, with the long line of Levites 
as they stood within the tabernacle and 
the temple before the altar of propitia- 
tion. I see Melchisedech, king of ^alern, 
prince of peace, ' ' without father, without 
mother, without genealogy, having nei- 
ther beginning of days nor end of life, 
but likened unto the Son of God, a priest 
for ever. " * I see more than this. The 

* Heb. vii. 3. 



34 GETIISEMANI. 

past by mystery becomes the present. I 
see the chaos of the new-created earth. 
The light of the Eternal Spirit hangs upon 
it, and the Word of the Father speaks, 
while celestial light springs forth and the 
mountains and the valleys put on their 
forms of beauty. It is my lowly Master. 
I know well the blessed face. And yet 
it seems another. Before the sight my 
heart, my soul, my whole being bow 
down and sink in wonder as I listen. It 
is the same voice, and yet its tones are 
unlike the tones of human voice. I fall 
prostrate before the tender revelation of 
my Master's heart and the words that 
come from the throne of Father, Son, 
and Holy Ghost, from between the wings 
of Cherubim, from the uncreated light. 
This is His dying testament. This is His 
legacy of love. This is "the priest for 
ever according to the order of Melchise- 
dech."* He takes the bread; He lifts 

* Heb. vih 17» 



GETHSEMANX. 35 

his eyes to heaven ; He blesses it ; He 
gives it to His disciples. The lips of 
the Creator speak: "Take ye and eat; 
this is My Body." " He takes the 
chalice ; He blesses it ; He lifts His voice 
in praise. He gives it to the kneeling 
twelve : Drink ye all of this, for this 
is My Blood of the new testament, 
which shall be shed for many for the 
remission of sins." * When this mighty 
miracle was wrought I looked upon 
the sad faces of the twelve. There was 
Peter with his strong faith and the light 
of a new zeal kindling in his earnest 
eyes. There was John with more than 
human tenderness gazing upon the face 
divine, seeking to read its wealth of love 
as in its changing features there flashed 
the light of Godlike power with the soft- 
ness of pity infinite. I watched the won- 
dering disciples, then lifted to the exalt- 
ed dignity of their priesthood. In each 

* St. Matt. xxvi. 26-28. 



36 GETHSEMAXI. 

I saw a transformation strange as it was 
wonderful. There was a tie before un- 
known, before impossible. The Master 
and the chosen band were one indeed, 
partakers of the One. The New Testa- 
ment was proclaimed. The priests had 
feasted on the Lamb of God. " There 
was one Body and one Bread." * And 
yet a veil of darkness fills the sacred 
place. They cannot see the fulness of 
the mighty gift of God. " What I do 
thou knowest not now ; but thou shalt 
know hereafter," f were the words of 
Jesus, which were well remembered in 
the days to come. I looked upon the 
face of Judas. Does he hate his Master 
now ? Is it madness like that of de- 
mons, or is it the blackness of despair ? 
It is no merely human face. He has 
added to his treason the crime which 
has no equal in the vileness of untruth. 
He has received the Lamb whom he 

* 1 Cor. x. 17. t St. John xiii. 7. 



GETHSEMANI. 37 

has sold for gain. The very body which 
he has sought to hang upon the cross 
he has not feared to take within 
his lips. Will he not yet repent ? Is 
it yet too late for pardon? I see no 
signs of sorrow. His eyes are bold. His 
hands are firm. His limbs tremble not 
with fear. Will he go upon his errand 
now? The shadows deepen. The mid- 
night hour approaches. The priests are 
waiting on his word before the festal 
rites begin. 

No ! there is another scene. It shall 
prepare him for his work. My eyes were 
full of tears. My heart was overwhelmed. 
There was a sadness deep as darkest 
night, and yet a sweetness like a breath 
of peace from Paradise. I loved this sad- 
ness, even though my heart seemed break- 
ing. Through my tears I looked upon 
my Master. What is it that draws me 
so and yet which makes me tremble ? 
He is more winning than I have ever 



38 GETHSEMAtfl. 

known Him, and yet the change alarms 
me so. I must look upon Him, and yet 
I quake with fear. There is a look as of 
one slain, as of one sacrificed and yet 
alive. I cannot speak. I cannot move. 
I can only look upon Him. Where will 
He lead me ? My soul, without words, 
cries out: "Draw me, O my Beloved; 
we will run after Thee to the odor of 
Thine ointments." * " He rises from the 
table and layeth aside His garments, and, 
taking a towel, He girds Himself there- 
with. He poureth water into a basin, 
and begins to wash the feet of the disci- 
ples, and to wipe them with the towel 
wherewith He was girded, "f I hear Him 
say: "If I wash thee not, thou bast no 
part in Me." I see the special love 
wherewith He touches every one of the 
disciples. These are the feet that for 
Him shall stand upon the dark moun- 
tains of the earth, and to its utmost 

* Canticles i. 3. t St. John xiii. 2, 3. 



GETHSEMAIVTI. 39 

bounds proclaim His grace. These are 
the feet that in their turn shall run with 
joy to the sacrifice of blood. He conies 
to Judas now. Will he, too, let the 
Master wash his feet? Can he bear the 
tender touch? And will the feet which 
these hands have cleansed run now to 
seal the fatal bargain? Where are the 
wings of angels ? Where the powers of 
grace? My Jesus looks upon him once 
again as He rises from his feet. It is a 
look that might have moved the ada- 
mant. It tells him of the fearful sor- 
rows of ingratitude, of the guilt of trea- 
son, of the chance of pardon. That 
hard face has no relenting feature. It 
changes not beneath the tearful gaze of 
a sorrowing God. O Judas ! awake be- 
fore thy doom is sealed. Canst thou be- 
tray thy friend and benefactor, and for 
a paltry price canst thou sell thy Mas- 
ter? There is no relenting. A film of 
gloom comes down upon his eyes. He 



40 GETHSEMANI. 

can hardly see. The light of reason falls 
a slave to avarice, and tenderest ties are 
broken at the voice of passion. O false 
disciple ! it is too late. The lips of Jesus 
open once again. I never heard His voice 
so sad. Not even on the cross were His 
tones so filled with grief. "If thou, My 
child, whom I have loved with love that 
God alone can give, whom I have made 
My priest, to whom the treasures of My 
heart have been unveiled — if, after all that 
has passed in the secret of our friendship, 
thou wilt deliver Me to Mine enemies who 
seek My blood, then hasten on thy way. 
They that have bought Me and will kill 
Me are waiting for thee. It is an awful 
deed, but spare Me not. Let the knife of 
thine ingratitude go deep within My heart. 
If thou dost not shrink to thrust it there, 
go on thy fearful way. 'What thou 
doest, do quickly.' " ..* I saw the traitor 
go, and with him went the heavy cloud 

* St. John xiii. 27. 



GETHSEMANI. 41 

which filled the souls of all. The shades 
of sadness for a moment passed from 
the Master's face, as when the light of 
heaven for an instant drives away the 
darkness of a gathering storm. The heart 
of Jesus seems relieved. There is no 
treason now around Him : only friends 
are kneeling at His feet. He hath many 
parting words to speak. He tells them of 
His sacrifice and its fruits, of the Church 
which they shall found, of the love where- 
with the Father shall embrace them for 
His sake. They have seen the body of 
their God made flesh. They shall see the 
body mystical which His humanity shall 
quicken into life eternal. He tells them 
of that sacrament of unity wherein all 
made one with Him shall be one with 
God ; of the Spirit that shall come upon 
them to unfold the riches which they 
could not comprehend. His eyes are 
filled with radiance divine as He be- 
holds the Church which, coming from His 



42 GETHSEMAtfl. 

opened side, shall be the mother of the 
living. 

He lifts His eyes to heaven, and His 
lips ejaculate a prayer: " Father, the 
hour is come ; glorify Thy Son, that Thy 
Son may glorify Thee."* He seems ready 
now for the sacrifice. I listen as a hymn 
of praise arises from the Master and 
the wondering disciples. His voice, 
so dear and so divine, is leading in the 
melody, and the sadness that broke forth 
in tears now breaks forth in song. Oh ! 
when shall a hymn like this be heard 
again ? ' ' When Israel went out of Egypt, 
and the house of Jacob from a barbarous 
people, Judea was made his sanctuary, 
Israel his dominion. The sea saw and 
fled ; Jordan was turned back. At the 
presence of the Lord the earth was moved, 
at the presence of the God of Jacob." 
"The sorrows of death have compassed 
me, and the perils of hell have found 

* St. John xvii. 1. 



GETHSEMANI. 43 

me." " I will take the chalice of sal- 
vation and call upon the name of the 
Lord." "The stone which the builders 
rejected, the same is become the head of 
the corner. This is the gate of the Lord : 
the just shall enter therein."* Is this 
like the melody of heaven ? When shall 
I hear my Jesus sing once more? 

But I must follow the steps of my Be- 
loved. The scene within the cenacle is 
over. With the solemn chant He passes 
out upon the open street. In the dark- 
ness of the night they walk unmolested 
towards the gate of the city, and their 
voices are clear upon the still air. Above 
them all I can hear my Master's tones as 
He leads them towards the Mountain of 
Olives. Those blessed tones are now sad, 
now trembling with fear, now even joyful. 
Oh ! tell me, my angel guardian, where is 
my Beloved going? My Mother is not 
here. I look in vain for her gentle face 

* Psalms cxiii., cxiv., cxv., cxvii. 



44 GETHSEMAKL 

and the strength that ever held my falter- 
ing steps. Can I go where she is not? 
Yes, I must follow my Jesus. He draws 
me and I must go. I trust Him for His 
grace. "Even if I walk in the midst of 
the shadow of death, I can fear no evil 
while He is with me." * I may be bold, 
I may be presuming, but I must go. 
They are coming now to the brook Ce- 
dron, and they lead me into the garden of 
Gethsemani. Well do I know its recesses 
and its Olive shades. Here I have often 
been with my Master, and I have watched 
Him in His prayer. At a distance I have 
seen Him hide Himself beneath the trees, 
and I have begged for the inspiration of 
His soul and that I might unite my fee- 
ble voice with His. But this is not like 
other nights. This is the last ; and to- 
morrow my Love will die. I fear and 
tremble, and my heart is beating as if its 
life would quickly run out ; but can I 

* Psalm xxii. 4. 



GETHSEMANI. 45 

stay away? I will follow Him. I will 
not intrude upon His gaze. There are 
angels here in serried ranks. There are 
the spirits of the night. I feel their 
power, and I am borne along, I know 
not how. My angel shall help me. He 
shall hide me beneath his wings while 
my Jesus makes his watch of prayer on 
this His last night on earth. He will for- 
give me, for it is love that leads me, and 
love that cannot be rebuked. With trem- 
bling steps my Master leads the way into 
the dense shade, where the light of the 
Paschal moon can scarcely penetrate. 
Then He pauses, and it seems that He can 
no longer stand. His whole form bends 
forward as if he were about to fall. He 
sighs. He weeps. He looks to His disci- 
ples with an expression of the most terri- 
ble suffering, as if begging them to pity 
Him. He leans upon Peter, and then 
bows His head upon the breast of the be- 
loved disciple. Oh! is He dying now? 



46 GETHSEMAtfl. 

He turns to the eleven to speak. His 
sobs choke His utterance. ' 4 Pray, pray, ' ' 
said He, "for the tempter cometh, and 
his angels are here in power. The dread- 
ful gloom of their lost spirits is upon Me. 
Stay you here, but pray for strength, 
while I go yonder to my awful prayer. I 
saw it from all eternity. I saw it when 
first I opened My eyes upon this sinful 
world, when first I laid My head upon 
the dear breast of My mother. I dread it, 
but it must come. Stay you here, and as 
you can, unite your prayers with Mine. 
And you, Peter, the rock of My Church, 
My vicar upon earth ; and you, John My 
beloved, and James, who have asked to 
sit upon My throne, and have thought 
yourselves able to be baptized with blood 
— you come with Me ; come, and leave Me 
not alone ; come and watch with Me. Oh ! 
I am so sad. Do you know what it is for 
Me, your God, to be so sad? The great 
capacities of My divine soul are strained 



GETHSEMANI. 47 

to their utmost. My soul, the soul of the 
Incarnate Word, is sorrowful even unto 
death." 

O my Jesus ! what will I do ? I cannot 
live and see Thee suffer so. Oh ! what is 
it? There is no foe at hand. Earth is 
quiet. I hear nothing but the plaintive 
murmur of the trees. Surely no enemy 
can come nigh Thee in this secure retreat. 
But where are the angels that ever watch 
around Thee ? Are they frightened when 
they see Thy sorrowing face ? Come and 
help me, spirits of the light ; come, lift 
my eyes and hold me up. I thought I 
could always look upon my Redeemer's 
face. If He would permit me I thought 
my eyes would ever yearn to meet His 
gaze. Now He does not hinder me. He 
even courts my look of sympathy. He 
even asks me to turn to Him with all my 
powers of sense and sight. And yet I 
cannot look upon Him. Such sorrow, 
such sadness, such awful loneliness are 



48 GETHSEMAKI. 

written on the features I love so well, that 
I am not able to lift up my head ; and 
when for an instant my tearful eyes meet 
His, my head bows down in utter weak- 
ness. I know He sees my heart. I can- 
not, oh ! I cannot look upon this agony of 
my God. It is worse than death. I can 
hardly feel that I am living, and yet I 
am not dead. He trembles so that my 
reason seems to stagger. My Gfod! the 
strength of all my hopes is overwhelmed 
with fear. I see Peter, James, and John, 
and they are resting on the ground. Oh ! 
can they sleep? And He, so lonely, so 
pitiful, staggers on as if there were no 
friend to comfort Him. O my God ! 
hold Him up ; send forth Thine angels to 
bear Him in their hands, or He will fall ! 
Alas! it is too late! What shall I do? 
A nameless terror freezes me, and my 
hands and feet will not obey my will. 
He has fallen on His face. My Beautiful 
One, my beloved Lord, has fallen as if 



GETHSEMANI. 49 

He were bereft of life. There He lies as 
helpless as if He were dead. Oh ! tell me, 
is He dead ? I looked forward to the hill 
of sacrifice. I was to go to Calvary to 
see Him die. Is it all over now? Here 
in the garden, without the touch of nail 
or spear, is He dead ? Ah ! I hear the 
blessed tones of that loved voice. My 
spirit wakes from its dread dream. He is 
not dead. But oh ! what do I hear ? In 
tones so weak, so full of grief, I hear 
Him say, " O My Father ! if it is possible 
let this chalice pass from Me. Neverthe- 
less, not as I will but as Thou wilt." 
These are the words which come from 
His dear mouth, pressed upon the ground 
as if He could not raise His head. Oh ! in 
all my experience or imagination of hu- 
man woe I had never dreamed of sorrow 
like this. All the agonies which the frenzy 
of men or demons has caused the mar- 
tyrs in their death -struggles are nothing 
to this ! Even He, the mighty God, the 



50 GETHSEMAISTI. 

strong arm of the Most High, can hardly 
bear it. Even He begs that this chalice 
of sorrow may pass from Him. That 
plaintive cry, that wail of the broken 
heart of my Lord, pierces my soul. I 
seem to lose all power over my reason. 
I tremble so that I seem like one dying. 
my Jesus, my All, my only Rest ! 
what can I do for Thee ? Thou holdest 
me up with the embrace of Thy loving 
arms, and Thou art prostrate upon the 
ground as if there were none to comfort 
Thee ! Oh ! so desolate is my Beloved 
that He is alone in this His hour of su- 
perhuman woe. Do my tears reach 
Thee? Do the sighs of my grateful 
heart come near Thee now % Alas ! God 
have mercy on me, I fear I have my part 
in this agony of my only Love— I can 
weep ; I can pray ; but I am not worthy 
to come near my Beautiful One in His 
awful disfigurement. I have to beg the 
breaking Heart of my Jesus to pity me. 



GETHSEMANI. 51 

Where is Magdalen with the sweet oint- 
ment of her true love? Where is my 
blessed Mother, whose look or touch 
would have soothed His sorrow ? Oh ! 
she could not be here. He loved her too 
much to take her into this Gethsemani. 
Could she bear it ? She has to nerve her- 
self for the morrow, for Calvary, for the 
death-scene, for the burial. What is my 
little love to hers ? It is only as a drop 
to the vast ocean, or as one ray of light 
to the meridian splendor of the sun. 
Where is the beloved disciple, he whose 
head had so often rested on the sacred 
breast, where now the heart is struggling 
with its tumultuous beating? Could he 
go away from his Lord? I heard the 
Master say, as He left him amid the 
shadows: " Stay here and watch with 
Me." Oh! is he watching now? I see 
no one. My Beloved lies alone upon the 
green turf, with no one to watch His 
convulsive sobs, the awful trembling of 



52 GETHSEMANI. 

His prostrate body. The grass of Geth- 
semani takes up His tears, and the si- 
lent trees are the only visible compan- 
ions of His agony. Not a leaf moves ; 
not a breath stirs the foliage which 
droops around Him, as if even nature 
were dead. death ! O cruel death ! 
where hast thou had a triumph like 
this? 

As I watch, behold He rises slowly, so 
weak that He can only stagger along. 
He goes pitifully to His chosen friends. 
He seems, like a beggar, to yearn for 
their sympathy, and His tearful eyes, so 
red with weeping, seem to crave a look 
of kindness or a word of love. Alas ! 
their eyes are closed in sleep. Upon the 
ground they lie, all unconscious of His 
terrible grief. They could sleep while He 
was suffering in mortal agony. O my 
poor Jesus ! I see Thee in the letters of 
prophecy " looking sadly about when 
there is none to help, seeking with sobs 



GETHSEMANI. 53 

for aid and finding none,"* not even one 
kind look or word. " He appears as the 
most abject of men, and as one despised, 
like a leper, struck by God and afflict- 
ed.' ? f "He called for friends, and they 
deceived Him" ; "His eyes have failed 
with weeping," and His broken form 
and agonizing face speak without words : 
u O all ye that pass by the way, attend 
and see if there be any sorrow like un- 
to Mine. The Lord has made a vintage 
of Me, as He spoke in the day of His 
fierce anger." He hath been trodden in 
the wine-press alone, and the red drops 
are forcing themselves from His crush- 
ed heart to every pore of His body. 
"From above the fire hath burned in 
His bones. The anger of God hath 
chastised Him, and made Him desolate, 
wasted with sorrow.":}: He looks at His 
sleeping friends. It would seem that 
such a look from God incarnate in His 

* Isaias ixiii. 5. t liii. 3, 4. % Lam. i. 12, 13. 



54 GETHSEMAKT. 

woe would have roused them from sleep 
and have stirred the depths of their 
being. No ! they are resting as if un- 
moved. There comes a change in His 
countenance, and in the look of utter 
desolation there is an expression of pity 
with ineffable tenderness. He speaks to 
Peter, who a few moments ago was ready 
to die with Him. Oh ! if I could remem- 
ber for all eternity that look of His face 
and the tones of His voice ! It went to my 
heart and opened the fountains of remorse. 
It wounded me with the sting of its sad 
reproach. I know that wound will never 
heal. I ask not for its healing until I 
see Him in glory, and the pierced hands 
shall touch it when there can be no 
longer danger of parting from my 
Love. " Peter, My true disciple, My 
vicar on earth, is it so that thou canst 
sleep now? I begged you with tears to 
watch with Me. Could you not watch 
one hour ? " " Alas ! you know not 



GETHSEMANI. 55 

your danger. You have not begun to 
learn the tenderness of My heart. This 
is an awful night. The powers of dark- 
ness are crowding around us. The sins 
of the ages are weighing Me down. 
Arise, awake, watch and pray. Pray as 
you never prayed before. The spirit 
may be willing, but poor human na- 
ture, how weak it is!" 

He turns away, and, as if borne by 
some supernatural force, staggers back 
to the lonely scene of desolation. The 
darkness deepens. A superhuman gloom 
falls upon the garden. There are no 
shadows. It is all black night. I strain 
my eyes. I can see nothing; but, O 
my God ! I hear Him fall. He falls 
more heavily than before. Has awful 
death come at last? No, I feel that 
the destroying angel is there with his 
drawn sword. But he has not killed 
Him yet. In the dense, fearful dark- 
ness I hear again His agonizing pray- 



56 GETHSEMANI. 

er, more plaintive than before. It must 
rend the heavens. It must break the 
clouds. There must come some ray of 
light. "O My Father! if this chalice 
cannot pass away except I drink it, Thy 
will be done." Now I can see nothing, 
but I seem to see blackness of nighb. I 
know not how long my Beloved lay 
prostrate on the ground. It seemed 
an age when I looked and saw a sha- 
dow pass before me, and I knew it was 
He. Nothing else could so move me. 
I follow the shadow. It leads me to 
the three disciples. They are asleep 
again. Their eyes are so heavy they 
can scarcely open them. Some spirit 
of darkness hath touched them. They 
are struggling to awake. I saw the 
bending shadow of my Love. Not a 
word was spoken. Dreadful sighs rang 
out upon the chill air and upon my 
frozen senses. Convulsive sobs shook 
Him, and the tears ran down like 



GETHSEMAISTI. 57 

fountains. But I could not see His face. 
Perhaps He spared me for His great 
compassion ; I think I could not then 
have seen His face and lived. Yet how 
I loved Him then I could not tell, fast- 
ened though I was and rooted to the 
ground like the rocks of ages. There 
were things ineffable of which I cannot 
speak. I suffered ; I seemed to suffer 
with Him; and yet the love I had for 
Him was like a fire in which my whole 
being seemed to burn. May He forgive 
me ! I am dumb before Him. I know 
not what I say. 

The shadow passes by me once again. 
This time it comes nearer. Was I pre- 
sumptuous when I thought I felt the 
power of His presence, and in my grief 
a sweetness stole upon me such as I 
had not known before? I dare not say. 
But He passed, and soon the light, the 
inward light, had gone. There was no 
outward light. To the sacred place 



58 GETHSEMANI. 

where my Beloved went I force my 
vision. earth, earth, cruel earth, 
that hearest now the plaintive prayer 
of God made man ! Again hath He 
fallen on thy breast. The earth which 
so many sins have cursed shall bear 
Him when no other place of rest is 
found, and shall dry His tears and 
drink His blood. "O my Father! I 
know Thy will. This chalice which tor- 
ments Me so, cannot pass away. Not 
My will but Thine be done. I take it. 
Press it to My lips, and I will drink it 
all. My Father, from Thy hand I take 
in its full measure this awful grief. No 
one but Gfod could drink it, and I am 
God, Thy co-equal Son. Let the sword 
descend, but let the Eternal Spirit hold 
Me up." Now I hear no more. He 
will not speak again. I seem to feel the 
desolation of this awful chalice. He, 
my Beloved, my Beautiful One — He is 
drinking it all alone. I know He is not 



GETHSEMAHL 59 

dead, for I feel so strangely the power 
of His life. Slowly do the moments 
fly. It seems the watch of an eternal 
night. There is no sun. There are no 
stars. There are only clonds which 
wrap all nature in their gloom. 

Yes, my Jesus, I am watching here 
with Thee. While Thou art here I will 
not fear the night. I will pray, and 
when I cannot pray I will think of 
Thee. And when the power of thought 
seems gone, and I am as if I had no 
being, I will feel Thy presence. I could 
not touch Thy chalice. Oh ! I am not 
fit to think that I could be sharer in 
Thy woe — I, who so many times by 
my inconstant love have grieved Thee ! 
Yet here, on the darkest night that 
earth hath ever seen, I would believe 
that I am weaned from all but Thee, 
that I will never wound Thee more. 
And so I pray, while shadows after 
shadows pass upon my soul, and sense 



60 GETHSEMAKI. 

seems lost for ever. At last there comes 
to me a ray of light. From some far- 
off source it lightens up the darkness 
and reveals to me the prostrate form of 
my agonizing Lord. One beam shines 
full upon Him. All else is dark. Yet, 

my Blessed Lord ! what does this 
light unfold? Thou art bleeding. Thy 
garments are wet with blood. Thy 
hands and feet are bleeding. Thy dear 
face is red, and great drops of blood 
are running down from Thy weeping 
eyes. The grass beneath Thee is crim- 
son with the fast-gushing current of 
Thy life. Oh ! what can I do? I close 
my eyes with fear, with horror, and 
with grief. Then I dare to look again. 

1 am not deceived. It is too true. The 
chalice has been taken, and it has done 
its work. The heart of love divine, of 
tenderness infinite, gave way. Can I live 
and see this sight? Angels cannot help 
me now. Their drooping wings hang 



GETHSEMANL 61 

down, and they are desolate. Only the 
bleeding hands can support me here. 
Prostrate there He lies, and yet I feel 
the pressure of those almighty arms. 
"Who is this that cometh from Edom, 
with dyed garments from Bosra, this 
Beautiful One in His robe? Why is 
Thine apparel red, and Thy garments 
like theirs that tread in the wine-press % " * 
" This is the Word of God, and He wears 
the garments sprinkled with blood." f 
The Infinite is stooping here. The love 
of God has found its true expression. 
God is Man and bleeds from head to 
foot with agony. O Jesus, my redeem- 
er ! how I love Thee in Thy sad dis- 
figurement ! Let my feeble heart but 
tell Thee in this night of woe how dear 
Thou art to me ! I love Thee for Thy 
beauty, which far transcends the powers 
of thought. I love Thee for Thy grace, 
which, amid the wrecks my sins have 

* Isaias lxiii. 1, 2. tApoc. xix. 13. 



62 GETHSEMANI. 

wrought, hath, strength to quicken me 
with life. I love Thee for the pity 
which Thou hast for me, so lonely and 
so vile. But most of all I love Thee 
because Thou wilt have my heart, and 
in Thy dear compassion dost stoop to 
take my love. To Thee in Thy great 
humiliation, exhausted with Thy sweat 
of blood, I consecrate my all. The ears 
divine are red with blood, but they are 
quick to hear my vows. My bleeding 
Jesus, let me come to Thee. Let my 
tears run down with Thine. Oh ! keep 
me, wash me in Thy blcod ! 

Now the beam of light which reveal- 
ed to me my Blessed Love seems to 
gather strength. It is brighter in my 
soul. I watch my Jesus, and, oh! eter- 
nal praise to God, He is not alone. 
Bright forms are at His side. Rays of 
uncreated gladness gleam upon their gar- 
ments as they draw near. They kneel 
around Him. They lift Him up. They 



GETHSEMANT. 63 

bow before Him. I hear no words. 
Yet darkness flies away, and upon His 
agonizing face there comes a smile of 
peace. The light of heaven is here, and 
I mnst look away. Not for me this 
revelation of the glory that shall be 
hereafter. These are the great archan- 
gels come to speak the words of com- 
fort in the desolation of their Eternal 
King. 



Meditation Second. 



TEE AGONY OF FEAR. 



MEDITATION SECOND. 



THE AGONY OF FEAR. 



"Fear seized upon me, and trembling, and all my bones were 
affrighted."— Job iv. 14. 

I look not now upon the angels who 
have come so gladly to console my dear- 
est Lord. My heart seems far away. I 
see one sight — the prostrate form of my 
Beloved. I see the awful sweat of blood. 
I see the crimsoned turf whereon He lies. 
I hear one voice — His sad, His piercing 
cry. He, so strong, seems now so weak. 
I feel the watches of His agony, as step 
by step the fearful waves dash over Him. 
I see Him overwhelmed with fear, trem- 
bling as if some mighty dread would kill 
Him. His sadness like a pall of dark- 

67 



68 GETHSEMA1ST. 

ness falls upon my spirit till I pant for 
life. I see Him there alone. He is the 
mighty God ; yet never was a sufferer 
so desolate. No night like this has ever 
clouded all the rays of light or been 
so awful in its gloom. And yet I love 
Thee so, my Jesus, that I cannot turn 
away. I would fear, if Thou didst leave 
me here, for surely I am not among the 
powers of earth. I am not among the 
dead, nor do I seem to be among the 
living. This garden is a world unknown. 
It cannot be the earth. It is not hea- 
ven. In the depths of darkness drear 
my soul is lost in Thee. Thine agoniz- 
ing heart is drawing me. Wilt Thou, 
dearest Lord, but listen to my prayer? 
May one like me but look within the 
clouds that wrap Thee round ? Oh ! tell 
me something of Thy woe. Then Thy 
garden shades shall be my teacher. 
Here I see no created thing. None but 
Thee, my dearest Lord, none but Thee. 



GETHSEMAKI. 69 

From the prostrate form amid the 
sighs and tears, while red drops gush 
from every pore, there comes a mes- 
sage to my heart. My soul awakens ; 
my whole being trembles. Deeper grows 
the night. I am descending down, down 
some awful cavern where my loneliness 
grows sweet, where my desolation with 
its fearful pain seems death ; for here the 
voice comes up to me which tells me of 
my Master's woe, and in Gethsemani I 
am drinking in the sorrows of the Sa- 
cred Heart. 

Listen, if thou canst, my child. Thou 
shalt see what thy birth of blood has 
cost Me. If thou art Mine, I have won 
thee by a broken heart. Dost thou love 
Me well enough to follow where I lead ? 
Art thou not afraid to dwell within these 
shades, the darkness of a superhuman 
night, and here to be alone with Me, to 
be alone indeed, where no sense shall 
tell that I am with thee, where even I 



70 GETHSEMANI. 

shall hide Myself, and faith alone shall 
prove to thee that I have not forsaken 
thee ? Canst thou lie down upon the 
crimsoned turf and weep with Me, even 
when I seem to leave thee all alone? 
Then, w^hile earth and sense seem dead, 
and heaven is far away, My sighs shall 
teach thee. Thou shalt know a little of 
the depths of My compassion. Thou 
shalt feel a little of the tenderness which 
dwells within My breast. Would the 
nuptials of thy King affright thee if I 
seal thee to My Heart in blood ? I will 
tell thee of My sufferings when thou art 
wholly Mine. When I put the ring upon 
thy hand, and press thee closely to My 
wounded side, thou shalt learn a little of 
My love, a little of the grief that over- 
whelmed My soul, that I might wash 
thee clean, might win thy heart and 
make thee all My own. 

When I took upon Myself the work 
of suffering, I took it as a God. I bade 



GETHSEMANI. 71 

the light depart. I bade the torturers to 
come. I bowed My head and bade 
the mighty waves of sorrow dash upon 
Me. The spirits of the rebel host whom 
once I chased from heaven and bound in 
everlasting chains were then unloosed. 
They came for their revenge. Within 
the hearts of men I came to save they 
lighted up the fires of hate, and earth 
arose against Me with demoniac rage. 
I willed this passion. I willed it as a 
God. And when the clouds arose I felt 
the fury of the storm. I trembled with 
the frenzy of the blast. To devils and to 
men I was the mark of every weapon, 
while I held back the drooping wings of 
angels, and God's incarnate Son sustain- 
ed the shock alone. Well do I remem- 
ber that last awful day, My last among 
the sons of men. I was descending to 
the pains of death before the soldiers 
came, before the nails were driven, be- 
fore My Judas sold Me. There was no 



72 GETHSEMANI. 

disease upon Me. The flesh of God 
could never know decay. There was 
perfect health within Me, and the ful- 
ness of my manhood crowned Me with 
its strength. And yet death was coming, 
awful death, such as this sad world had 
never known before. It was coining 
over Me with all its baneful power. My 
limbs were failing. I could hardly move. 
My head was aching with the pangs of 
more than mortal pain. It drooped up- 
on My breast, and tears came freely to 
My eyes and almost closed My vision. 
My heart sank down, and agony I cannot 
tell you of so filled Me that I struggled 
with this mighty death to wait for Me 
upon the cross. I held back the bitter 
waters, and all day long I bade them 
watch for Me within the garden. There 
I gave them liberty to overwhelm Me. 
Yet could I tell you of the love that all 
that day so filled My trusting heart — 
love infinite that ran within My veins 



GETHSEMANL 73 

and gushed unbidden from My eyes ? 
I had loved the race of man eternally, 
and the tenderness of God was My com- 
passion for the lost. But that last day 
it seemed something more to Me. When 
the Magdalen touched My aching head 
My love was stronger than the pangs of 
death. I so yearned to clasp My wan- 
dering sheep, and hold them safe with- 
in My arms, that I welcomed more of 
woe, and the blood was bounding in 
My veins, impatient to be shed. And 
when I journeyed to Jerusalem to die 
the thought was sweet to Me. Each 
step was bringing on the hour of grace 
when by fearful death I could redeem 
My loved ones, break their chains, and 
wash them from the stains of guilt. In 
the Paschal Rite I saw Myself, the 
grand fulfilment of the type, the Lamb 
of God upon the cross of Calvary. In- 
deed, My heart was bleeding then. My 
one relief, the moment of My perfect 



74 GETHSEMANI. 

joy, was that in which I gave Myself 
to be the food of My redeemed. The 
bread I gave them was My Flesh ; the 
chalice was My Blood. I was within 
them then : My love had found its full 
expression. Could God do more ? I 
humbly bent Me down and washed the 
feet of My disciples. My touch was 
tenderness divine. There was never love 
like Mine. 

Yet time was hastening on. My hour 
was fast approaching. The sun had 
set. The stars were hidden. The bitter 
waters were in waiting for Me. They 
were to meet Me in Gethsemani. And 
as I turned to face them deadly fear 
came over Me. In My chosen place of 
prayer, in the garden shades, where 
many nights I watched and with My 
Father held communion, there I pro- 
mised them their full dominion. There 
had I unchained the powers of evil, 
the spirits of the night. There I cove- 



GETHSEMANI. 75 

nanted to meet them all alone. Yet, 
when I led My little band, and even 
from the rest withdrew My chief apos- 
tles as a guard around Me, or at least 
to watch with Me and grant My break- 
ing heart the consolation of their sym- 
pathy, I began to fear and tremble. 
This dread was not unknown, and yet 
for Me it was an agony. This was the 
onset of the bitter waters They dashed 
upon Me, and I was their sport, as dark- 
ness deepened and I cried for loneli- 
ness ; and the gloom engulfed Me in its 
rayless night. 

Child of My passion, thou hast chosen 
Me to be thy Spouse: dost thou won- 
der that I feared? Let Me tell thee 
as I can of this agony of fear. It is 
little that My words can speak. There 
are no words to paint the horror of that 
hour. 

I had bidden all created light depart 
—the light that cheers the day, the light 



76 GETHSEMANI. 

that softens all the dread of night. It 
was total darkness on My soul, a heavy 
weight that pressed me down. And 
in this gloom were forms of every 
ill ; and every sorrow that has fallen 
on the heart of man took shape and 
pressed upon Me. Phantoms drear with 
demon faces, with the laugh and jeer 
of hopeless misery, seemed to touch 
Me and oppress Me with their baneful 
breath. I heard the wail of every woe 
that man has known since Paradise was 
closed, and sorrow lifted up its head to 
torture and to reign. I felt the reptiles of 
the earth as with their slimy fangs they 
seemed to crawl upon Me, to dart their 
fiery tongues, and sting Me with their 
poisoned fangs. No grace of things 
created, no form of beauty, filled the 
chasm dire wherein I fell ; but horrid 
faces gazed upon Me with the look of 
hate and scorn. I saw the vast proces- 
sion of the lost. The charnel-house 



GETHSEMAINTI. 77 

wherein their bodies lay corrupted seem- 
ed My resting-place. Their mouldering 
bones arose to taunt Me with the noises 
of the grave and fill my senses with the 
odor of the tomb. Spirits disembodied, 
full of fire, smoking with the air of hell, 
crowded round Me with the curses of 
despair. The souls I could not save 
were eager to affright Me with their 
horrid breath, or touch Me with the 
lurid flame that burned within them. 
Then came the rebel host of angels fall- 
en from their high estate. I let them 
loose. " This was their hour ; the power 
of darkness." " Their name is legion." 
They rushed upon Me with their sable 
wings ; the fearful gloom of spirits lost 
was like a mantle of corruption cover- 
ing Me. They filled the night. I touched 
them with convulsive trembling. When 
I put out My hands I felt them there. 
When I looked within the depths before 
Me, I saw them stooping over Me as birds 



78 GETHSEMATST. 

unclean descend upon their prey. I heard 
their curses ringing on the air. Their 
thirst of ages for revenge was now to 
satiate itself. And I was before them 
crushed, and My humanity was broken 
by their violence, although I am the 
Son of God. Dost thou wonder that I 
feared, that My bones were trembling 
with the horror of the scene, that My 
quaking heart was nigh to death ? Some- 
thing of this fear My loved have known 
in paths wherein My grace has led 
them. But I have never left them in 
the gloom alone. A night like Mine 
they could not bear and live. When they 
have touched the bitter waters I was with 
them. When they descended to the vale 
of death My angels went before them, 
and My hand upheld them in the dark- 
ness. Yet I, thy Master and thy God, 
was all alone. 

Then when the waves of sorrow seem- 
ed to close upon Me, and the spirits 



GETHSEMAKL 79 

of the night were reigning in the deep 
that covered Me, I looked upon My 
body, thus the sport of every power of 
ill, and saw the way to Calvary, the 
tortures of the cross. So weak was I 
that I could hardly raise My head or 
move a limb. The fever of My blood 
was burning Me, as the red drops were 
pouring out from face and hands and 
feet. I saw the marks of the scourge 
upon My back ; the crown of thorns 
was pressing in My brain. The cruel 
nails seemed now to hold Me fast. 
The cross was on My bleeding shoulders, 
and I was fainting with the load. I 
could not walk, and yet My weary way 
was all before Me. I said in My dis- 
may : sinner ! what art thou doing ? 
This is the body of thy God. These 
are the hands and feet of God. This 
aching, thorn-crowned head is God's. 
Can you, do you dare to mutilate it 
so? I saw the hill of Calvary. The 



80 GETHSEMAKI. 

place of skulls with noisome odor 
choked My breath. I hung upon My 
wounds, slowly bleeding to My death, 
and beside Me were the murderers to 
fill my dying hours with shame. All 
the pains of crucifixion seemed to 
come before the time, and nail and 
spear transfixed Me as I lay so help- 
less on the ground. These fearful 
pangs were not too much to satisfy My 
yearning love. Within My breast My 
heart with its pulsations swift was call- 
ing for My baptism. And yet when 
all the morrow came before Me, and 
every torture one by one I felt, there 
surged upon Me like a flood of fire the 
horror of an awful fear. God's only Son, 
the image of the Father, the brightness 
of His glory, to be treated so ! God 
made man to be thus despised; to be 
mocked and scourged ; as a common 
criminal to be crucified ! 
Then I looked within the soul divine 



GETHSEMAJNT. 81 

ever gazing on the Father's face, the 
heart whose tenderness is but the pity 
of the Deity, and upon Me came My 
agonies in one. I took the cup of man's 
ingratitude and drank it to the dregs. 
My heart was open by its love, and here 
My enemies had found their mark ; and 
where I suffered most, with w^anton 
cruelty they plied the arrows of their 
hate. I was prostrate on the ground, 
and yet I seemed to hang upon the 
cross. I heard the mockery which, 
with studied insult, followed every 
shadow of My face and every throb 
of My convulsions. I prayed for their 
forgiveness, and the jeer was My re- 
sponse. I already tasted vinegar and 
gall they pressed upon My parched 
and feverish lips. I forgave one mur- 
derer who hung beside Me. I was the 
king of murderers then. I lost the 
other soul. The shadow of My cross, 
the privilege to die with Me, were not 



82 GETHSEMANI. 

enough to save him from the flames of 
hell. I saw My priceless Mother, dearer 
far to Me than all but God. She 
stood beneath My cross in majesty of 
woe. It seemed to Me that I had 
never loved her as I did then. Beth- 
lehem, the desert drear, and Nazareth, 
the blessed time when I could lay 
My head upon her loving heart, came 
back, and the filial tide of love from 
God's only Son upon her flowed. Mo- 
ther, Mother ! thou canst not know 
the fulness of My love for thee. There 
is no such love, and God alone can 
sound it. I am thy child, it is My 
dearest earthly joy. I wear thy fea- 
tures, and for all eternity I shall look 
like thee. But I am thy God, and 
He alone can know how God can love 
His Mother. So, when in agony I saw 
her tears, and knew her heart was 
breaking too, strange was My crush- 
ing fear that she, the dearest of ere- 



GETHSEMANI. 83 

ated things, should suffer with Me ; that 
I could never comfort her, nor stay the 
death that seemed to lay its pall upon 
her, too, and wrap her in its cold em- 
brace. My dearest must come near 
My cross of pain ; I suffer with them, 
but I cannot save them from the chalice 
which I drink. 

I saw the sorrow of the Magdalen. 
Her sobs like arrows pierced My soul. 
I had washed her from all stain, but 
little did she know the cost to Me. 
Watch and wait with loving grief. I 
must bear the sins of all who live by 
Me. 

The disciple of My heart, who drew 
his innocence and virgin purity from 
Me must learn the lesson that My body 
broken and My blood poured out are 
now the only food that can preserve 
from guilt and purify for heaven. 

While I lie so helpless in the agonies 
of fear there is another night I feel, 



84 GETHSEMANL 

whose shadows only touch Me now. I 
shall feel the sins of all mankind ; and 
as I sink to die, when utter weakness 
comes, the sword of Heaven shall smite 
Me in My tenderest point. The con- 
soling presence of My Father and the 
Spirit consubstantial shall forsake Me 
when I need it most. Dost thou won- 
der that I fear, when before My faint- 
ing eyes and trembling heart this chasm 
opens wide to close Me in its awful 
depths \ Already do I seem to feel the 
pains of death. Already do I see the 
tomb wherein My cold and lifeless body 
shall be laid. There shall I rest as 
humbled and as prostrate as if I were 
not God. 

Now, My child, to whom I open thus 
the secrets of My agony, canst thou 
stay and watch with Me ? Canst thou 
bear the shadows where I tremble so? 
Where My soul is filled with horror and 
My fear is like to death, canst thou come 



GETHSEMANL 85 

with Me? Thou canst never know what 
I have borne. I love thee far too much 
to break thy heart. And yet I yearn to 
bring thee to My close embrace, and be 
with thee as is the lover with the loved. 
I yearn to put My hand upon thy 
wounds, to chase the shadows from thy 
sky, to wash thee pure from every stain, 
to make thee like the crystal mirror 
that sends back My light. I would 
have thee for My own, where no shade 
can come between thee and My love. I 
thought of thee when in Gethsemani I 
lay so agonized with fear. I have often 
feared for thee. I feared to lose thee. 
Thou didst wear My ring upon thy 
hand, and thou didst call Me Bride- 
groom, too. Yet with tears I watched 
thee when I saw thee turn to creature 
love or rejoice in anything save Me. 
I have followed thee when thou wast 
forgetting Me and all thy love was not 
My own. Thou didst make Me fear in 



86 GETH8EMANI. 

the garden even of My woe. But now I 
hold thee fast. If thou wilt not fear to 
stay with Me, the horror that I felt 
shall be thy cure. What I have borne 
shall not prevail against thee. Watch 
and pray, and love Me, too, with all thy 
heart. I am thy God. What can harm 
thee when I am near? Thy fear shall 
bind thee to My heart, and the brighter 
shall ascend thy love. 

Dearest Lord, I thank Thee for these 
words. I tremble as I feel the shadows 
which so darkly covered Thee. I will 
watch with Thee. I will never leave 
Thy side. I could not live if there were 
parting now. I am not brave. I know 
how weak I am when danger threatens 
or the icy waters chill my blood. I 
promise nothing but to follow Thee. 
Let my days be dark, my nights a vigil 
endless, if so I closely cling to Thee. 
Yet I beg Thee to prepare my way. 
Let my heart be Thine, and when the 



GETHSEMANI. 87 

path grows drear and sight is gone, 
when I can hardly feel, I know that 
Thou art near. Jesus, O my only Love ! 
I watch and wait for Thee. My faith 
can never fail ; and if the darkness 
seem too great, and mighty waves en- 
compass me, my grateful heart shall 
hold its love, my voice shall sound Thy 
dearest name. Above the waters in their 
rage, above the forms of ill, the phan- 
toms of the night, the spectres of my 
sins, one word shall still my fears, one 
word shall sound above the storms. 

Jesus, Lord, my love above the depths 
ascends to Thee ; I watch, I wait for 
Thee. 



Meditation Third. 



TEE AGONY OF LONELINESS. 



MEDITATION THIRD. 



THE AGONY OF LONELINESS. 



41 He hath led Me and brought Me into darkness, and not into 
light. He hath set Me in the dark places, as those that are dead 
for ever. Yea, and when I cry, and entreat, He hath shut out 
my prayer."— Lamentations iii. 2, 6, 8. 

Canst thou watch with Me ? It will 
be little for thy love to do, if I am at 
thy side, and My hand shall hold thee 
up. Dost thou love me well enough to 
watch when I shall lead thee into dark- 
ness where no light is seen, to the places 
drear where I shall hide thee all alone 
and then withdraw My consolations ? If 
I shall shut out thy prayer, and seem 
to go away for ever ; if I let the tempt- 
er come to tell thee I am gone, to bid 
thee know I love thee not, that I have 

91 



92 GETHSEMA^I. 

given thee to outer darkness, that thou 
art no longer Mine ; art thou brave 
enough to wait in hope ? When faith 
becomes thine only strength, and phan- 
tom forms are crowding round thee, 
and unearthly voices laugh to scorn 
thy confidence, wilt thou then abide ? 
Canst thou, the lover of My bleed- 
ing heart, abide in seeming exile and 
bear something of My agony of loneli- 
ness ? Listen, then, and I will tell thee, 
as I may, how I suffered in the garden 
shades when I was left alone. If it be 
hard for thee to bear the faintest sha- 
dow of My woe, what thinkest thou 
of My sad desolation when, as God, I 
stripped Myself of every light, and bade 
the creature, animate and inanimate, de- 
part, and even hid the rays of My eter- 
nal glory, throwing densest clouds be- 
tween the heavenly throne and My agon- 
izing soul? 
If I tell thee something of my lone- 



GETHSEMANI. 93 

liness, perhaps the thought may cheer 
thee when thy trial comes. The mem- 
ory of this awful night, the picture of 
My prostrate, bleeding form, may give 
thee constancy, may make thee even love 
to be alone for Me, may help thee in 
thy promise to abide and watch with 
Me. 

When I went down to My Gethsemani 
I willed to be alone. I willed to suffer, 
and from My bed of agony I shut out 
created love ; and even of the fire that 
burned so brightly in few faithful hearts, 
even of the love divine of the Father 
and the Spirit, I made a tortuye, for 
I barred it out. When God made man 
willeth desolation, can any finite spirit 
sound its depths ? 

The love of the inanimate creation 
came not near Me in that hour. The 
earth put on a sable pall and seemed 
to cast Me from its bosom. It trembled 
as I touched it, as if some horror had 



94 GETHSEMANI. 

possessed its depths. The voice ot warn- 
ing came from caverns of the sea ; from 
the caves within the mountains on whose 
threatening brow the frown of anger 
seemed to settle down. The trees stood 
still and drooped their sorrowing branch- 
es, as if there were no life to move 
them now, as if cold death had seized 
them in their prime. It was not winter's 
frost, it was not decay, but sudden 
stoppage of the power of life. The flow- 
ers, whose smile was ever sweet, now 
fell as withered on their stems as if some 
palsied hand had crushed them in its 
grasp. The light rejoicing in My pre- 
sence, and imaging to created things 
My glory, seemed extinguished. " The 
sun was turned to darkness, and the 
moon to blood." The stars were hid- 
den in the vault of heaven, as if there 
were no light, as if the night of chaos 
had renewed its reign of horror. 
The ranks of myriad life retreated from 



GETHSEMAKX. 95 

the exiled Son of God. *The beasts were 
hidden in their dens, appalled with fear. 
The birds, whose tuneful song exults in 
light, were nestling in the forest shades, 
as if the terror of some mighty power 
had struck them dumb. Upon the 
darkness piled around Me as a solid 
mass no hum of insect life arose to tell 
me that a living thing was moving near 
Me. I was hidden in the caverns drear 
of that which seemed a universal death. 
Down, down I sank as if to endless 
depths, where billows of the mighty 
ocean rolled above Me. The angels of 
My court, who always watched around 
My steps, were bidden to depart. I 
would not let them come within my 
living sepnlchre. Unwillingly did they 
retreat, and stood with drooping wings 
beyond the clouds that covered Me. The 
valiant prince who leads the armies of 
My Father bowed his head and sheathed 
his sword. And Gabriel, guardian of 



96 GETHSEMAtfl. 

My Mother ana of My humanity, passed 
away with trembling voice, w T hile Ra- 
phael had no place within the garden 
where his King lay bleeding. I shut out 
their loving hearts, the blessed peace of 
their intelligence, and even would not 
think of seraph voices raised in adora- 
tion pure, nor hear the notes of their ce- 
lestial song. I bade them stand in si- 
lence. Even in high heaven I hushed 
the canticles of joy. 

And of those whom I redeemed, the 
men whose nature I had taken, the fel- 
lows of My race, there were none to 
comfort Me. The few whose hearts 
were aching for Me were away, shut 
out by My own will. My Blessed Mo- 
ther would have come, but I loved 
her far too much to bring her here. 
I could not crucify her soul before 
the time, and so I saw her in her 
agony as far from me she watched 
and prayed. I would not think of her 



GETHSEMANI. 97 

within this awful hour, for her anguish 
filled My cup, and as I drank it down 
how could her breaking heart console 
me ? If she had seen My sweat of blood 
and touched My agonizing head, or knelt 
beside Me on the ground, she might have 
fallen crushed. She might have died 
beside Me, and the angels would have 
rushed unbidden to her aid. I could 
not have held them back. No ! I felt 
her fearful woe, the anguish of her pre- 
cious soul; I would not let her touch 
this chalice. I would drink it all alone. 
I called for My disciples, and I beg- 
ged them to remain with Me. Some 
fearful gloom appalled them, and the sad- 
ness of the day had wearied them. The 
baptism of their blood could not pre- 
cede the Pentecostal flood of fire. The 
traitor was hastening on his way to seize 
Me for Mine enemies, to betray Me with 
his kiss. The eleven were overcome 
with sleep. They had heard Me warn 



98 GETHSEMA1SX 

them of approaching death. They had 
feasted on the body and the blood which 
on the morrow should be shed. And 
yet far away from Me, as if forget- 
ting all My sorrows, they were sleep- 
ing. I took the three apostles whom I 
Jed to Thabor's height to see My glory. 
I asked them to draw nearer to My 
great humiliation, to see how low the 
Son of God could lie. They were so dear 
to Me I did not fear to try them in My 
lonely hour of woe. Even they could 
sleep. I saw the unconscious form of 
James, the heavy eyes of Peter, and 
even the exhausted face of John. Three 
times I begged them with My tears to 
wake and speak to Me. I could not 
rouse them from their sleep. 

And yet, had they waked, what con- 
solation could they bring, when I was 
bleeding for them, feeling all their fu- 
ture suffering, their fires of martyrdom ; 
and when My strength was failing 



GETHSEMANI. 99 

that I might give it all to them? 
They could have offered Me their sym- 
pathy when I was so forsaken and so 
sad. It might have added to the bur- 
den which was crushing Me, to see 
their tears ; and yet the offering had 
been grateful to My love. 

I read the souls of men — those who 
kill Me on the morrow, those who 
called Me friend, from whose hearts 
or homes I chased the gloom of sorrow 
or of sin. There was no comfort in the 
sight. There was hypocrisy, a false pro- 
fession, or a selfish love. They loved 
Me for My benefits. Few love Me for 
Myself. This sight but added to My 
loneliness, and so I closed My eyes and 
bowed My head upon the ground, which, 
if it feared Me in My sorrow, did not 
hate Me, did not deceive Me with false 
words. I even kissed the grass so moist- 
ened with My blood, that it gave Me 
shelter in My grief and did not re- 



100 GETHSEMAKI. 

fuse Me rest or rudely cast aside My 
tears. 

To make My desolation full of bitter- 
ness the evil spirits crowded round Me, 
and I bade them come. Their chains 
were loosed to do their worst against 
Me, to torment Me with their scorn, to 
oppress My soul with their malignant 
hate. Their movements were appalling 
to My every sense ; their breath was 
baneful, their words were wounding to 
My honor, and their fiery eyes were 
flashing on Me like the meteors of the 
night. I was not in hell, and yet the 
flames of hell were burning, in their 
hearts, and the smoke of fires eternal 
filled the heavily laden air. I was worse 
than exiles far from home, with enemies 
around Me ; and the awful loneliness of 
spirits lost was weighing on Me. I, the 
Son of God, the brightness of the Fa- 
ther's face, by all created things de- 
serted, save only by the powers of hell, 



GETHSEMANI. 101 

exulting in their hour of seeming vic- 
tory. 

I have a deeper anguish now to tell thee 
of. I know not if thy mind canst under- 
stand My words. If thou art My child 
lift up thy voice and pray. Close thine 
eyes to all created sights, thine ears to all 
created sounds, and listen while the Eter- 
nal Spirit prays with thee. My Father 
then withdrew from Me the smile which 
ever held Me up in all My great humili- 
ations. I saw His face as on it man- 
tled the dread clouds of vengeance. He 
drew the sword divine to smite Me as 
if I were not His Son. He turned from 
Me as if His anger kindled at My sight 
and were to spend itself on Me, so help- 
less and so crushed. I cried, " Father, 
Father, is it Thou? Is this the tempest 
of Thy wrath to break on Thy co-equal 
Son?" I could not see, for blindness 
overcame Me, and I fell as one dead. 
There was no relenting then. Upon 



102 GETHSEMANI. 

My breaking heart, My bleeding form, 
the everlasting sword came down. Oh ! 
it has power to pierce, to slay, to sepa- 
rate the soul from its material frame, 
to crush the body, and to penetrate the 
springs of life and thought. 

I looked upward to the throne where 
amid the Cherubim am I adored. A 
night of more than mortal gloom hung 
between Me and the sceptre of My 
everlasting reign. The Paraclete pro- 
ceeding from Me in the eternal act of 
love had hid His face, and desolation 
drear was sinking on My soul, then strug- 
gling for the breath of life. No rays of 
mercy came ; no beams of warmth to 
cheer My freezing heart. The Spirit 
held the clouds of wrath between Me 
and the throne. I bore the weight of 
justice fierce proceeding from the sanc- 
tity of God. For sinners was I dying, 
and with sinners I must take My place, 
and in My agonizing soul and crushed 



GETHSEMA1STI. 103 

humanity bear their punishment, and as 
the chief of criminals must feel the ha- 
tred of the Infinite for sin. 

And with the Father and the Holy 
Ghost My will moved freely in that 
awful night. I wrought with them 
their work of wrath on Me. I put 
from My humanity, in this direst hour, 
the consoling rays of My divinity, and 
as God I plunged My manhood in the 
depths of gloom. My Godhead's cheer- 
ing power I turned, that it should mag- 
nify My deep humiliation ; and the 
voice of My divinity but told Me of 
the wrath divine, and made Me feel, as 
none but God could feel, the wounds in- 
flicted by His hand upon the body and 
the soul in union everlasting with the 
person of the Word. The great humilia- 
tion of God's Son could be measured 
by the Infinite alone. So while con- 
solation could not come, I bowed My- 
self beneath the lash of vengeance, and, 



104 GETHSEMANI. 

with, the Father and the Holy Ghost, 
I moved upon the waste of woe and 
plunged beneath the depths of wrath, 
that I might be indeed alone. And 
here, My child, My words must cease. 
I can speak no more. God alone can 
follow Me within the awful caverns of 
the deep. This agony of loneliness is 
far beyond the reach of intelligence cre- 
ated. Even love redeemed, love spring- 
ing from My bleeding heart, love formed 
and nurtured in My breast, can never 
pierce these clouds nor be with Me with- 
in this veil where I, as God, descend to 
suffer and to bear the burden of the 
world's offence against the majesty di- 
vine. Thy love would bid thee dare to 
follow Me ; but it were vain to try. 
Where angels cannot come, where My 
spotless Mother stands in awe, where 
the thunders of a broken law and ter- 
rors of avenging Deity are voices from 
the throne, the child so near My heart 



GETHSEMANI. 105 

must kneel away, or only touch the out- 
line of the distant cloud. 

And yet I love thy sympathy. I yearn 
for perfect union with thee. My tender- 
ness for thee is far above thy sight. 
Come close to Me and follow Me with 
fear. I am a jealous lover, reading all 
thy thoughts. If I call thee to the 
shadows of Gethsemani, if there I leave 
thee all alone, it is the proof of My 
espousals. There before the day shall 
dawn, before the nuptial joys be thine, 
I teach thee of thy spouse. I open to 
thy love the wonders of My grace. I 
purify thee from the stains of every 
sin. I empty thee of self. I teach thee 
thine own nothingness, and make the 
night profound, until I come alone 
with morning beams to claim thee as 
My own, to press thee to My breast, 
to tell thee of the crown prepared 
for thee. From loneliness there cometh 
joy. My saints shall welcome thee ; 



106 GETHSEMAXI. 

the fulness of My love shall fill thee 
with the bliss of heaven. Take cour- 
age, then, if thou art lonely ; know that 
I am leading thee. I prove thy faith. 
" Canst thou stay one hour and watch 
with Me?" If I break the ties of earth 
and take from thee the bonds that 
bind thee to the creature ; if I make 
of thine affections sources strong and 
deep of sorrow ; if all that thou couldst 
lean upon shall fall beneath thee, and 
the silent grave shall bury all thy 
loves, canst thou bear the desolation? 
Art thou willing to be alone with Me? 
If the voice that led thee to My arms, 
and taught thee of the treasures hid in 
Me, is stilled within the tomb ; if there 
are none around thee that can feel the 
meaning of thy words and deeds ; if 
the gentleness of sympathy be turned 
to cold indifference, and for wasted 
strength and love there come ingrati- 
tude ; and the waters that were sweet 



GETHSEMAjNT. 107 

be turned to bitterness, wilt thou re- 
pine or murmur at My ways with thee ? 
If even from the sanctuary I expel the 
light, and darkness shrouds the bless- 
ings of My sacramental throne; if even 
when I give Myself to thee in highest 
acts of love thy heart is heavy, and 
desolation dwells where faith alone lifts 
up its light ; if thou canst not raise 
one thought of home, and seemest far 
from Mine embrace, an exile from the 
sweetness thou hast known, and call- 
est to thy side in vain the saints who 
once protected thee, or angels of My 
court with whom thou once didst live ; 
wilt thou complain or think Me cruel 
to thee? If I do more than this, 
and seem to leave thee as if I loved 
thee not, go far away when loneliness 
has reached its height, and let thee 
weep and yearn for Me ; canst thou 
then abide in faith ? Will the waters of 
thy desert chill thy love, and wilt thou 



108 GETHSEMAKI. 

turn away and count the cost of thine 
espousals to a King who crucified Him- 
self to reign in bleeding hearts? Wilt 
thou cry : 4 ' Dearest Lord, I came to 
watch with Thee ; I promised to abide 
for ever at Thy side, and for Thy love 
I have forsaken all ; I have naught but 
Thee, and now Thou leavest me ! I did 
not promise to abide alone, I cannot 
bear the night where Thou art not. 
My heart will break, and I shall die of 
loneliness. I was watching with Thee, 
and now I am in dreariness to die, 
watching I know not what, I know not 
where, in places desolate where I can 
neither see, nor hear, nor feel" ? Shall 
this be all thy courage now, when once 
thy heart did seek to go within the 
Olive shades and ask to follow Me? 
Dost thou only walk by sight? Must 
thou see and hear to know that I am 
near ? Thou didst leave all, but didst 
thou leave thyself? Wilt thou direct 



GETHSEMAKI. 109^ 

Me in the ways I lead, or think that I 
am not within the cloud? It were well 
to realize that I am God, that I alone 
must reign, that in the souls I gather to 
My heart My will must rule omnipotent. 
In these deep shades self-will shall die 
and I will prove thy faith. Is it My 
grace thou seekest, or is it Me? 

By the pain of seeming parting, by 
the dreariness of exile, I am washing 
out thy stains. I cannot lift thee to 
My side and before My saints espouse 
thee until thy heart is dead to all but 
Me, until thou canst not will the light, 
the rest from pain, the consolations of 
My face, if I thy Master choose for 
thee the night. Thou must put thy 
hands in Mine and ask for nothing but 
My will. In this Gethsemani thy pride 
shall fall for ever, thy subtle love of 
self, the vain complacency that counts 
My gifts as if they were thine own, and 
takes for courage and heroic love the 



110 GETHSEMAKI. 

sweetness that I grant to draw thee to 
the death that comes before the dawn, 
the morning of the new life. If thou 
art taken at thy word, wilt thou re- 
pine ? If the Olive shades are dark be- 
yond thy thought ; then remember Me 
when so desolate I lay upon the crim- 
soned turf, thy God in utter loneliness, 
whose aching heart sent forth its blood 
from every pore ; when night divine 
o'er whelmed Me, and I cried: u O Fa- 
ther ! must I drink this cup ? Not My 
will but Thine be done." No night like 
Mine shall fall upon thee. No cup like 
Mine shall touch thy lips. Believe Me, 
I will never leave thee. In the thickest 
darkness I am nearest thee ; and when 
thy loneliness seems worse than death 
I am unseen beside thee, watching well 
thine every thought, coming closer to 
thy side, proving to My Father and His 
saints thy constancy. The shadows 
chase the shadows, and the clouds dis- 



OETHSEMAKI. Ill 

pel the gloom. The darkness that I 
send casts out the shades of earth, and 
the natural shall flee before the touch 
of God. Where nature dies there I 
shall live. If thou hast faith and wilt 
abide and learn to love the ways of 
grace, I teach thee lessons which the 
fearful never know. I can reveal My- 
self to thee and show thy yearning 
love the depths of tenderness within My 
breast. I can embrace thee. I can love 
thee as I will. I can put My heart in 
thine, and thine in Mine. Only fear not 
in the cloud ; thou dost not see, but 
I am looking in thy face ; thou dost 
not feel, but I am holding fast thy 
hands ; thou dost not hear My voice, 
but I am speaking of thy love in sweetest 
tones unto My Father and the Spirit. I 
am telling to the angel choirs of nuptials 
that shall come, and bidding them pre- 
pare the festal joys. They are watch- 
ing in the lonely gloom ; they wait to 



112 GETHSEMANI. 

comfort thee when morning dawns. I 
never loved thee more. I see thee 
true to Me in thy Gethsemani, and now 
I know thy heart is Mine. Blessed 
death to self and sense, that leads to 
life with Me. Blessed agony of loneli- 
ness, that opens wide the door of hea- 
ven, that leads thee to the company of 
saints, the home where loving arms of 
God shall hold thee fast for ever. There 
the nuptial chant shall sound, the sha- 
dows melt in uncreated light, and above 
the swelling song be heard the voices of 
the Bridegroom and the Bride. 



Meditation Fourth. 



THE AGONY OF SADNESS. 



MEDITATION FOURTH. 



THE AGONY OF SADNESS. 



"My soul is sorrowful, even unto death. 1 '— St. Matthew 
xxvi. 38. 

I am listening, dearest Lord ; the ten- 
der tones have moved me so that I am 
full of grief. Some shadows of Thy 
loneliness oppress me, that my tears are 
prayers. The night is full of gloom; 
but I am watching near Thee, and I 
love Thee so because Thy words reveal 
to me Thyself. Thou dost speak to one 
like me, as lover to his friend. Oh ! 
so precious are these treasures of Thine 
hours of grief. Thou hast called me 
child, and opened to my longing love 
Thine heart so infinitely sweet. Thou 

115 



116 GETHSEMAKT. 

hast called me to Thy side and bidden 
me to stay. 

I feel Thine agony, but I know not 
what it is. I feel Thee, and only Thee. 
All else is gone. I hardly know myself, 
who I am, or whence I come. The earth 
itself seems far away. I know not if 
there be a sun, or if the stars that gild 
the firmament are moving in their courses. 
I have forgotten creatures ; and the faces 
I have known are strange to me. I have 
no memory ; I have no past ; I have no 
future. One thing I know — my Jesus 
in His agony is here. I see only Him; 
I hear His voice alone. I feel naught 
but Him. All is Jesus, and Jesus is 
my All. 

And now an awful fear comes over 
me. My blessed Love is suffering more. 
He has not told me all. He lies more 
prostrate on the ground. He moves 
convulsively with pain. The blood is 
gushing in new torrents from His face 



GETHSEMAKI. 117 

and hands. Dearest Master, tlie mid- 
night of Thy woe is not yet come. 
Thou art more sad. There is a heavier 
weight upon Thy breast, and Thy dear 
face betrays an awful struggle in Thy 
heart. I see deep dejection and a sad- 
ness overwhelming Thee. There is one 
expression in Thy prostrate form, in 
Thy hands and limbs and feet, in Thy 
royal head which lies so low. It is the 
language of a broken heart. O my 
Jesus ! is there none to comfort Thee ; 
is there no ray of joy to pierce this 
gloom ; no memory that can rest Thy 
soul ; no sight to soothe the anguish 
of Thy blood-stained eyes? One voice 
comes up to me. Thou dost not speak, 
and yet I hear. I feel the words that 
rise to me as from the crimsoned ground 
Thy lips are moving to the cry of sad- 
ness inexpressible. "My soul is tasting 
sorrow to its most awful possibility. It 
is like to death ; it is worse than death. 



118 GETHSEMAKI. 

If I were not God I should now die 
witli agony." 

Dearest Master, may I speak ? May 
Thy loving though unworthy child 
draw near Thee in this hour ? Canst 
Thou tell me of this sadness over- 
whelming Thee? May one like me dare 
look within the deeps that seem to 
swallow Thee and from Thy soul di- 
vine shut out the rays of light ? I 
know I cannot follow Thee, nor ever 
penetrate the caverns drear where God 
alone descends ; but may I hear a little 
of Thy woe? If my sympathy could 
reach Thee now, it seems that I would 
offer Thee my life. Yet I dare not say 
one word, I am so weak, inconstant, 
and so fearful in the face of danger. 
Oh ! let my weakness cry to Thee ; only 
let me love Thee, and I will ask no 
more. 

Then there was silence like the utter 
death of sound. There was not a move- 



GETHSEMANI. 119 

ment that could tell me there was life. 
It might have been an hour ; it seemed 
an age. I could plead no more. In the 
stillness deep I neither moved a limb or 
feature. I hardly thought. My Mas- 
ter was in close communion with me, 
and I felt these words, which seemed 
to be within me and yet to come from 
Him. There was an awful nearness to 
my Love, while shadows of His heart 
encompassed me until I seemed to lose 
my life in His. 

Child, whom I have called to watch 
with Me, whose love hath ventured here 
within the shades whence even angels 
fled, dost thou see Me sinking, sinking 
far away from thee? Wouldst thou 
know the sadness that prostrates Me 
now? Wouldst thou see the drops 
which from my chalice I am drinking 
here ? I know not if My struggling 
soul can speak to thee as in grief in- 
tense it poureth out its life and sinks 



120 GETHSEMANI. 

beneath a flood of woe. I am sad : there 
is no other word. Hast thou known sor- 
row ? Have the ties which bound thy 
heart been snapped in twain ? Has 
earth been desolate to thee ? Has the 
created light seemed ever mockery to 
increase thy darkness? Hast thou been 
laid beneath a cross whose weight was 
crushing thee, till joy seemed dead before 
the open grave of all thy hopes? This 
is grief, perhaps; but sadness shows a 
deeper pang. Indeed a grave is here ; 
the springs of life are quenched, decay 
is reigning in its blight; where phan- 
tom faces mock the tears that fall, and 
cruel voices tell of hopes extinguished, 
of loves departed, buried where no morn- 
ing comes. Around, above, beneath is 
blackness ; while on the heart there lies 
a weight no power can raise. It is 
crushing down ; and with it life and 
hope and joy are sinking in the deep 
abyss. The tears would fall. The heart 



GETHSEMANI. 121 

would struggle with convulsive sobs; the 
breast would pant for breath. But what 
are signs like these ? They are the lan- 
guage of a wrestling with our woe. That 
sadness is the deepest where the avenues 
of sense seem turned to stone, and our 
intelligence is dumb, as if a prisoner in 
a living tomb. 

Have I told thee of a sadness thou 
hast known % Have I touched the strings 
whose quick response reveals the mem- 
ory of anguish known to God, of which 
thou hast no words? Then let remem- 
brance help thee to the knowledge 
of My grief. Thou hast suffered as a 
creature. I have suffered as a God. 
Thy heart is finite and hath known the 
taint of sin. My heart is God's, the 
resting-place of His great tenderness, 
the home of love divine. Its birthright 
is the Father's face with all the bliss of 
deity. The rays that shine within it are 
the light that dwells upon the throne. 



122 GETHSEMANI. 

If the sadness crushes thee, what 
must that awful sorrow be which pros- 
trates thy God, and weighs Him down 
until His mighty arm seems paralyzed, 
and the Creator weeps and struggles 
with a sweat of blood ? 

I cannot tell thee of the drops with- 
in the chalice of My agony. To the 
Father and the Spirit My broken heart 
is open. It rises to the pity and the 
justice of the Deity. I tell thee all I 
may, and even more than thou canst 
understand. Pray the mighty Spirit to 
inspire thee, to touch the powers of 
thine intelligence, and in the future 
days to bring these precious revelations 
to thy loving memory. 

I was bending under the dread hand 
of God. I was the Lamb of sacrifice. 
The cruel death before Me was My 
choice. The knife was in the Father's 
hand to slay His Son. He could not 
shrink back nor fail to make the work 



GETHSEMA1NT. 123 

complete. This was the moment of the 
ages. The hour had come. The Lamb 
was ready and His breast was bared. 
No wonder that the Lamb was deso- 
late, led out to slaughter, none to pity, 
none to spare. But that the knife 
might find Him ready, and go down to 
pierce the tenderest heart, the face of 
God must be averted and anger dwell 
where love eternal sprang. He was 
as if the sinner in whose place He 
stood. The justice of the Trinity beheld 
Him not as the co equal Word. Sins 
clothed Him as a garment then — the 
sins of every age, of every heart. The 
sins of every sense and limb crept over 
Him, like noisome reptiles turning 
round, until they hid His face, and He 
seemed to see but sin, to hear but sin, 
to taste but sin, to feel but sin. No 
crime too vile to come and lay its 
weight upon Him now ! The days be- 
fore the flood were here ; the days of 



124 GETHSEMAKI. 

Sodom and Gomorrah ; the days of base 
idolatry, when vice itself was made a 
god; the days of Israel's fall and final 
ruin ; the days of heresy and separa- 
tion from the ark of God, His body 
mystical. Sins of the intelligence and 
will, crimes that called to Heaven for 
vengeance, vices of the passions in their 
dark pollution — all were laid on Him, 
and as a filthy robe were wound around 
Him. He could hardly recognize His 
limbs and senses as the members of 
the incarnate Son. And with their 
drear pollution and the crimson stream 
of guilt there came the wretchedness of 
wasted grace, the stings of deep re- 
morse, the tortures of the undying 
worm. The miseries of broken hearts, 
the death of souls, the dire corruption 
of the grave where % sin in all its foul- 
ness reigns, were all upon Him. Where 
He had made an Eden fair, there came 
an earth defiled, the vale of sorrow and 



GETHSEMANL 125 

the home of bitterness. No crime of 
thought, or word, or hand, or deed which 
did not bear its weight on Him. All 
sins and griefs of man were burdens of 
His heart. Wonderest thou that He lay 
prostrate and could scarcely rise beneath 
the load? 

I am speaking of Myself ; for as I 
looked upon My body crushed and 
soul afflicted, I seemed as if another, 
the victim of My love for God, standing 
in the persons of the sinners vile whose 
wounds I bore, bruised and marred and 
all unlike the brightness of the Father's 
image. So spoke the Spirit as the eter- 
nal Three in One beheld this scene, and 
the Lamb in helplessness before them. 

"Who can believe the fearful story? 
To whom is known the arm of God, 
the Consubstantial Word? There is no 
beauty here, nor comeliness. We have 
seen him, and, alas ! there was no sight- 
liness. Who would desire Him ? De- 



126 GETHSEMA1ST. 

spised of all, He is of men the most ab- 
ject. Sorrows and infirmity are all His 
daily life. He hath the look of one 
contemned ; who could esteem Him ? 
He wears the face and form of lepers 
struck by God and heavily afflicted. 
His wounds are wounds of others' sins ; 
His bruises are the blows of others' 
crimes ; He is bearing punishment for 
man's iniquities, while on His bleeding 
heart is laid the weight of all transgres- 
sion. It was His will to be the sacri- 
fice. The Lamb of God lies dumb, and 
unresistingly is led to slaughter."* 

My child, for whom I suffered so, I 
would that I could tell thee of this agony 
while thus the burden of the world's 
transgressions crushed Me to the earth. 
God alone can feel the depth of My hu- 
miliation. The Infinite alone can know 
the shame and guilt of sin, and tremble 
at its awful nearness. And in My grief I 

* Isaias liii. 1-7. 



GETHSEMAKI. 127 

seemed to touch the lowest and the vilest, 
souls I could not save, who only mocked 
My sweat of blood and called Me weak, 
or in their derision laughed that God 
should suffer or become a victim sacri- 
ficed by His own will, when, without the 
pangs of death, He might have saved 
the sinner if He would. Hell with lurid 
flames arose before Mine eyes ; the sin- 
less lake of pain was near Me. I wres- 
tled with the demons in their frantic 
rage, and spirits lost were jeering at My 
useless woe. 

I felt the sins of Mine elect, the weak- 
ness of My saints, the guilt of those I 
love, for whom My heart was giving 
out its blood. Had I not bowed so low, 
had I not touched the chalice, w^here 
had been the throng of virgin^ and the 
white-robed army of the martyrs ? How 
in darkest places of the earth could pu- 
rity have gleamed or innocence have lift- 
ed up its torch ? How could the stain of 



128 GETHSEMAOT. 

crime be washed away, and Eden come 
again to new-born souls ? Alas ! My 
blood must flow ; and that it gain full 
power to cleanse the vile, and turn the 
springs polluted into founts of life and 
light, My heart must send it forth with 
all the vigor of a God. And now, My 
loving child, fear not, do not despair. 
I will tell thee how I bore thy sins ; 
how every thought and word and deed 
of thine inconstancy to Me were like 
the poisoned spears to wound Me in 
My tenderest point, to touch the foun- 
tains of My love for thee, to press upon 
the veins of thy Beloved and make 
them bleed ! Yes, I wept for thee. Thou 
wast not always wholly Mine. And if 
I had not suffered to this sweat of blood, 
how could I have brought thee back from 
wanderings strange and creature snares, 
and laid thee on My shoulders bare and 
bruised, and then have looked thee in 
the face with tearful eyes ; have made 



GETHSEMANI. 129 

thee love Me, and have taught thee 
what I am, the sweetness of My hearts 
Weep, my child ; here let thy tears run 
down with Mine. It needed this Greth- 
semani to win thee to My side. Behold 
Me here so low, so sad, for thee. I am 
prostrate here that thou mayest rise, 
with thy lamps new lighted, ready for 
the nuptial rite, the hour of thine es- 
pousals to a bleeding King. So gladly 
I this burden bear, and even pray the 
bitter waters to submerge Me in their 
depths ; I touch the limits of a sad- 
ness reaching far beyond the bounds of 
things created, that I may make thee glad 
in that new life which springeth from 
the fountains of My blood. 

And while I lay beneath this burden 
of the world's transgression, of every 
human misery, of every grief that man 
can know, I looked upon My humanity 
and trembled at the sight. This great- 
est work of God, this body framed of 



130 GETHSEMAIST. 

Mary's virgin blood, this soul resplen- 
dent with, the light of deity — where were 
they now % Where was the brightness of 
the Father 5 s image ; where the beauty 
which had ravished all the angel choirs ; 
where the might of God's right Arm; 
where the power of the unconquerable 
Word? So ill My visage seemed, so 
bruised My form, that I was hardly man ; 
much less did I appear as God. Oh! it 
tilled My soul with sadness crushing all 
My life to look upon Myself and feel the 
depth to which God's only Son had 
sunk. I was indeed despised, cast out by 
man, a leper bending 'neath the wrath of 
heaven. The sight appalled the Cheru- 
bim and Seraphim, whose tearful eyes 
were turned away. They looked from 
My humiliation to the throne. The cloud 
had passed before them. The uncreated 
rays were hid. There was no word to tell 
them why their King lay thus, His hea- 
venly purple dragged in mire, without an 



GETHSEMAM. 131 

angel for His guard, the most abject of 
all created tilings. 

And then I drew Me to the hearts I 
love, the virgin souls whom I was making 
pure, the saints who followed Me within 
these awful shades and to the watch on 
Calvary. I saw their sins effaced, their 
stains made clean, their chains set free ; 
I was bearing on My broken heart their 
burden drear, which never on their souls 
should fall ; I was bound, and they were 
free. And yet I could not keep the 
waters of affliction from them, nor hold 
back the spear that pierced Me through 
and through from touching them. It 
made Me sad to see them suffer so. I 
counted all their tears ; I treasured up 
their pains. They were the purchase of 
My cross. They suffered for My love, 
and where the hurt was deep and heart 
recoiled, they thought of Me and blessed 
the hour of their companionship with 
Jesus in the garden of His grief. I loved 



132 GETHSEMANI. 

them so for their fidelity to Me in sha- 
dows dire where every creature help had 
failed. I saw their straining eyes, as 
with the tears of gratitude they searched 
for Me, and through the olive-trees their 
cry was heard: " Jesus, Master, let me 
come to Thee!" It was I, indeed, who 
suffered then, and in them endured. 

The Martyrs in their crimson robes all 
passed before Me. I saw their pangs, 
the fearful fires, the cruel sword, the 
rack, the scourge, the nails. I felt their 
long and awful deaths, where angels with 
the crown of life were watching all their 
wrestlings with the torture, and palms 
of glory waited for them. While I lay 
there as if unconscious in My agony, My 
heart was giving them My strength, My 
fortitude was theirs, and I was drinking 
in my chalice sad the blood they shed 
for Me. I saw My loved ones in that 
hour, and every weight that ever rested 
on their hearts was bearing down on Me. 



GETHSEMA1STI. 133 

My apostles dear, so soon to die ; My 
priests ; confessors in their strength of 
faith— they passed before Me one by one. 
For each there was a tear, for each a por- 
tion in My woe. 

I saw My Church, My body mystical, 
encompassed round with fire and sword, 
its long career the record of My griefs. I 
was its image as I lay there so low. There 
was the body of the Word, the Second 
Adam thus discomfited ; the sacred ta- 
bernacle of the Lord, the ark of safety 
from the flood. No blows that struck 
the Church were half so fierce as those 
that rained on Me ; no oppression of the 
home of Grod on earth was half so crush- 
ing as the weight which fell upon the 
eternal Son of God, as in Grethsemani 
He lay alone without a solace, desolate 
and sad, in battle where it seemed the 
arm of the Omnipotent had failed, and 
devils led their conquering hosts to tram- 
ple on Him in His dire defeat. 



134 GETHSEMANI. 

There was another woe. And when 
I look upon it as it came to crush Me, 
I am so sad that I can hardly speak. 
You know a little of My love, a little 
of the depth divine of tenderness that 
dwells in Me ; you know how dear to Me 
are souls whom I espouse, whose hearts 
I lead to nuptial joys and take within 
My glad embrace. Oh ! what you know 
is little of the truth. I am sweetness 
infinite, love that hath no bounds, and 
when I clasp a soul within My arms, 
they are the mighty arms of God. 

Could I tell you how I love My Mo- 
ther blest, My priceless one, My dearest 
treasure in this vale of tears? Ah! I tell 
it not to angels listening in the wonder 
of their high intelligence. She far ex- 
cels their brightness ; and the rays that 
clothe her soul, proceeding from the 
throne, are telling to the Father and the 
Spirit of My love for her. The mighty 
Trinity bows down to hear the story, 



GETHSEMAlSri. 135 

and the Three in One rejoice and call 
her Queen. Yet lift up thy heart, my 
child, and look beyond the powers of 
sense. I owe thee to My Mother; she 
hath prayed for thee. She brought thee 
to My side. Her blessed hands have 
led thee to My home. They held thee 
up when first I looked on thee and heard 
her say, " Behold my child and Thine." 
I know thou lovest her with all the 
tenderness I gave to thee. If I did not 
see thee in her arms, I could not be 
Thine. No child can find a place within 
My nuptial halls but those My Mother 
brings with her sweet smile. Then, 
from thy love to her, lift up thy soul 
and think what she must be to Me. f 

I saw her in this night of woe as in 
her home she knelt and watched and 
prayed. I saw her sighs, I heard her 
sobs, I felt the anguish of her heart. 
Her soul was near to Mine, never nearer 
than within this fearful hour. I looked 



136 GETHSEMANI. 

upon her blessed face, and how I loved 
that face the Three in One alone can 
know. The eyes that ever sought My 
gaze with more than mother's love were 
red with tears. The lines of agony were 
written where the uncreated beauty dwelt. 
Her precious hands were pale and cold, 
and moved as if convulsively in prayer. 
She fell with Me, and when I fainted, 
she was prostrate too. I felt the beat- 
ings of her heart responsive to My 
grief: it panted for the breath of life. 
Oh ! how I loved her then ! My child, 
there are no words to tell my grief. 
I yearned to take her in My arms, to 
call her by her dearest name, to drive 
from her the clouds away, and lift the 
pall which covered her bright soul. Yet 
that dark pall could not be raised. She 
was My own, My Mother dear, with 
love for Me that reached the bounds 
of all created strength. When I must 
suffer, could I say to her, " Mother, think 



GETHSEMANI. 137 

no more of Me ; sorrow not when I am 
passing through My agony" \ This 
had hurt her heart and wounded deep 
the tenderest feelings of her soul. She 
must be with Me in pain, for in- 
deed our hearts are one. I could not 
bring her here. This were too much for 
her and Me. She feels the struggles of 
my soul; she feels the drops of blood 
as one by one they cover me with this 
My crimson robe. I would not let her 
see this sweat of blood, this awful weak- 
ness of her child. Enough has she to 
bear when I shall meet her on My 
way to Golgotha, the cross upon My 
shoulders, treading in My blood. 
Enough to follow Me to Calvary, to 
stand beneath Me when My dying hour 
* shall come, and let My failing eyes drink 
in her parting look of love. Yet, oh ! 
how sad I was to feel her woes ! It al- 
most killed Me to behold her grief. 
Down in the crimsoned ground I hid 



138 GETHSEMANI. 

Mine eyes, and sighed as if for death. 
cruel, cruel sin that crucifies a God 
and must crucify the Mother too ! My 
child, my heart is broken now. I 
say no more. I cannot speak. Oh ! 
leave Me with the earth on which I lie 
alone. Here let Me weep and here give 
out My blood. God knows My loneli- 
ness. To Him I need not speak. 

And if you truly love your broken- 
hearted King, then speak no more. It 
is the hour of silence, through the earth ; 
in heaven. Go kneel and pray. Never 
can I break your heart as sin has bro- 
ken Mine. 



Meditation Fifth. 



THE AGONY OF PAIN. 



MEDITATION FIFTH. 



TEE AGONY OF PAIN. 



"Tribulation is very near: there is none to help Me. I am 
poured out like water. My heart is become like wax melting 
in the midst of My bowels. My strength is dried up like a pot- 
sherd, and My tongue hath cleaved to my jaws, and Thou hast 
brought Me down to the dust of death. They have dug My 
hands and feet; they have numbered all my bones." — Psalm xxi. 
12-17. 

When thus my Master ceased to 
speak, and begged for solitude to ease 
His grief, my soul was still. It was 
not alone the stillness of the senses. 
It was an awful stillness of my soul. 
I cannot tell of this, for it was not an 
earthly silence. My being seemed no 
more my own ; and all my conscious- 
ness was lost in Him who, lying there, 
upheld me that I could be still. Did I 

141 



142 GETHSEMANI. 

pray ? Tell me, angel guide, oh ! was it 
prayer? I sent my heart to watch be- 
side my prostrate Lord, and I was so 
sad that I cannot speak of it. Ah ! sad- 
ness is no word. There is no word. 
There is a language deep which hath 
no signs. Bitter was the hour, too bit- 
ter far for utterance. One thing alone 
I knew : my Jesus was before me. My 
weeping Love was lying there. I felt 
Him ; I had no other sense. I suffered, 
but I know not how. I dare not say it, 
yet I seemed to suffer there with Him. 
Could this be true for one like me? 
Did I really grieve with Him? Was I 
then so near to Him that He could 
make me partner of His woe? 

Then, while I suffered so, and tears 
like rain ran down, and new affection 
for my dearest Lord was filling up my 
bursting heart, I was awakened to the 
sense of life. I looked before me, and 
the darkness was more dense. I put 



GETHSEMANI. 143 

out my trembling Hands, and, like one 
blind, I seemed to touch the cloud that 
as a wall surrounded me. My ears 
alone had life, and took the place of 
every other sense. From the earth there 
came a voice. I knew the tones. Even 
in their deathlike feebleness no tones 
but His could move me from that still- 
ness where my lips seemed closed for 
ever. * 

O my Blessed Love ! is it indeed Thy 
voice? And wilt Thou speak to me 
again ? I know, I feel, Thy fearful 
agony has yet not reached its height. 
Canst Thou tell me more? If I may 
hear another word my grateful soul shall 
praise Thee in eternity. May I listen 
while the shadows deepen and the cloud 
is heavy on Thee ? I would know all I 
can. I only ask for love, because Thou 
art so dear to me. Nearer am I to Thee 
now than I ever hoped to be. I fear I 
am too bold ; and yet I bless these aw- 



144 GETHSEMAHL 

ful hours. Could I have known Thee in 
Thy depth of tenderness, if I had not 
known this darkness of Gethsemani? 

Child of My sorrows, espoused to Me 
in blood, I love to speak to thee ; I 
love to tell thee of the burden which I 
bear. I am bearing it for thee, and I 
am loving thee with every pain. Each 
sharp agony unites My soul to thine. 
Each awful pang but brings Me closer 
to thy heart, and gives Me right to fold 
thee to My breast. Let Me tell Thee of 
My pain. The cloud of sadness that 
oppressed My soul as if the bands of 
death had bound Me is here lifted up. 
I am suffering tortures new at every 
breath, and yet my heart is more at ease. 
I will reveal to thee an agony whose 
sharpness is relief from that depres- 
sion darker than the night of chaos 
when the Spirit moved upon the void, 
I will lift up My aching head, and for 
a moment stay My tears. I tell thee 



GETHSEMAISTI. 145 

how upon My broken form the shafts 
of anger fell, and lightnings of the 
wrath of God were playing on My 
nerves that I might suffer pain, and 
of the cup of torture drink the dregs. 
As I lay there I passed My passion 
through. I took up every pang. I anti- 
cipated all. I felt the cross, the scourge, 
the crown of thorns, the nail, the spear. 
I felt the blows upon My face, the spit- 
tle of the crowd, the angry curses of 
the mob. In My flesh, exhausted with 
the sweat of blood, I was mocked, and 
scourged, and crucified before the time. 

Listen, child, and as thou art My own, 
thou wilt love to dwell upon My wounds, 
to study every pain, with deep affection 
linger as I shall each grief unfold, and 
open to thy sight the picture of a mar- 
tyred God. 

Didst thou know Thy Love was cru- 
cified, that thou art now His bride, 
that the marriage-bells were sounding 



146 GETHSEMAISX 

in the garden, ringing loud on Calvary ? 
Didst thou know that when He touch- 
ed thy hand, and put on thee the wed- 
ding-ring, His fingers were so red with 
blood ? Didst thou know that He was 
full of pain, and trembling with' the 
pangs of mortal anguish, when He drew 
thee to His side and called thee His ? 
Hereafter thou shalt know the whole ; yet 
I will teach thee now the lesson that may 
serve thee in thy pangs, and when thy 
crosses come shall turn thine eyes to 
Me. T shall not ask My saints to 
bear what I have borne. Look, then, 
with prayerful heart, and nerve thyself 
to see. Where I have fainted, and thy 
•God was weak, canst thou look on and 
live? 

Ah ! hast thou known a pain severe, 
and full of death, making of the flesh 
one realm of torture, running through 
the veins, piercing nerves, dividing bones, 
and burning at the seat of life? There 



GETHSEMANI. 147 

are bitter pangs, the punishments of 
crime ; there are torments cruel rage hath 
found to sate its vengeance on the dying 
frame. There are martyrs for My faith 
treading in their paths of agony to find 
the likeness to My cross. I have taken 
all their pains. I have gone before to 
bless their anguish with My presence, 
and to track the way that leads to crowns 
eternal in the heavens. 

Their strife was fierce, the struggle 
dire ; yet am I their King, and far as 
earth from heaven their agonies from 
Mine. I am God, and in the realm of 
torture I am reigning. Without an 
equal have I suffered, and there is no 
cup of grief intense I have not tasted 
to the full. To the utmost power of 
pain have I mounted ; to the depths of 
keenest agony I have gone down. And 
My nature, so divine, so sensitive to 
feel, hath strained its great capacities 
of suffering, that the soul and body of 



148 GETHSEMA1STI. 

the Word might thus " exhaust the sins 
of many" and be perfect in its sacrifice. 
The pangs which I endured upon Me 
came in one assault. I bade them come 
together, and I bared My breast that they 
might do their worst. I held them fast 
and would not yield ; I let them waste 
their strength and wrestle with Me, and 
I suffered only as I willed. When the 
torments reached their height, when to 
its fiercest limit I had tasted every pain, 
then with My hands I touched the chill- 
ing stream of death, and bowed down 
lifeless to their rage. And every pang 
I took I held without relief throughout 
long hours — the endless hours when mo- 
ments, counted by My pains, were ages 
drear. I held them all like furnaces of 
fire burning fiercely to the dying breath. 
I was bruised with stunning blows. The 
marks were on My head and breast and 
swollen face. I kept the sting until the 
last. The ropes that bound Me tore Me 



GETHSEMANI. 149 

by their cruel tension, as they dragged 
Me like a beast along the streets, among 
the stones that pierced My feet. The 
stricture of the ropes I felt around My 
waist, upon My breast, even when on Cal- 
vary ; and the cross with My convulsions 
caused the cruel mark to redden with 
My blood. 

Naked at the pillar did I stand while 
scourges ploughed My flesh. My shoul- 
ders were one bleeding wound. I kept 
the agony and took it to the end. Upon 
the cross I nourished it, and would not 
then permit one pang to cease, or fail to 
feel one blow. I would be scourged unto 
the last, and willed to see the mangled 
shoulders bleed. I put the heavy cross 
upon them, that the gaping wounds might 
open wide and reveal in death the burden 
I had borne. 

I would not that My bones should 
break. This were not worthy of the 
Lamb of God. But I took a direr pain, 



150 GETHSEMANI. 

and let My limbs be forced apart, and 
from their sockets let My bones be 
torn. And thus I hung on Calvary, 
and thus I died. 

They tore the skin and flayed Me as 
they mocked Me, tearing off My gar- 
ments from My bruised and mangled 
flesh. This was anguish as of fire. I 
trembled as I meekly bore it to the 
cross and held it till the end. 

They put upon My royal head a 
crown of thorns. With its sharp points 
they pressed it through the tenderest 
nerves. Upon My temples and against 
the bone it crowded down. It tore 
My forehead, it obscured My sight, it 
opened up a fount of pain; My ach- 
ing, lacerated head was wild with an- 
guish too intense for life. I nourished 
all these pangs. I would not let them 
go. Not an instant did they cease. I 
kept My cruel crown and wore it till 
I died. 



GETHSEMANI. 151 

The deathlike faintness such as only 
comes from loss of blood I suffered from 
the garden till with parting breath I 
yielded to the awful agony. I was 
fainting all the time, just living as I 
willed, and holding on to tortures to 
exhaust their power. I was nearer 
death than life. Beneath the cross I 
staggered on, so weary that My weari- 
ness was worse than pain. 

My heart seemed filled with fire, and 
its pulsations ran like light, till breath 
was anguish to Me ; and then by turns 
it almost ceased to beat, and like the 
chilling ice it lay with stifling weight 
within My breast. Now I was burn- 
ing, burning, as if some penetrating 
fire were running in My veins, as if a 
heat of more than human power were 
turning into vapor fierce the solid flesh 
and bone. Then I was chilled to death, 
freezing, aching with the cold, hanging 
naked on My wounds, and trembling as 



152 GETHSEMA1ST. 

the nails that held Me seemed as icy bands 
to burn Me with their cold intense. 

There came a hunger, not from lack of 
food alone, but from exhaustion awful 
in its pain, as nature craved relief. The 
thirst from faintness and from bleeding so 
profusely was a fearful pang. I even cried 
aloud from awful thirst consuming Me ; 
and as My tongue was parched, with lips 
wide open panting for a breath, the souls 
for whom I died were ready with their 
mockery. Upon My lips, so dry and 
feverish, even cracked with thirst, they 
put their vinegar and gall. I was hun- 
gry and athirst until I willed to die, 
and, prostrate on the ground, My tears 
were mingled with My blood. I took 
these pains and held them to My breast 
as if My dearest treasures. They were 
the price of souls. With these I bought 
My lovers true ; and as I drew them 
with the strength of Q-od, I blessed the 
agonies that made them Mine. 



GETHSEMAOT. 153 

So in fondness all divine I touched 
the scourge so soon to tear My back. 
I kissed the ropes so soon to bind My 
limbs. I took up the nails, and, as if I 
looked at gems, I laid them on My 
heart. The hammer which the ruffian 
hand should drive them with was dear to 
Me. I looked upon My hands and feet, 
and marked the place where they should 
pierce Me with an endless wound. I 
saw the thorns, so sharp, so soon to rest 
upon My brow. I touched their points 
with tenderness. This was the crown of 
the celestial King, who reigns by blood, 
and wins the hearts of men by pain. 
And when upon My royal head I saw 
this crown, I gathered to My close em- 
brace the virgin souls that only know 
their bleeding Spouse and never fear the 
thorns. 

I put My fingers on the cross and 
measured well its height and breadth. 
This was the tree of life, for ages seen 



154 GETHSEMANI. 

in prophecy, to bear the quickening fruit, 
the living bread. Its type was once in 
Paradise, where innocence and beauty 
reigned beneath the smile of God. From 
Eden it has come to Calvary, and by 
that sacred wood I shall redeem the 
world. I touched and blessed the holes 
already made to hold the spikes when 
they should nail My lacerated feet and 
hands. 

With affection uncontrolled I took 
the spear which should transpierce My 
heart in death. With transports of a 
God I kissed it many times. Blessed 
spear, I cried as then My Father heard— 
blessed spear, that in the heart of love 
incarnate shall reveal the depths and 
unfold the mercy of the Crucified, open- 
ing up the wound that flows for ever 
with the tide of pardon and of grace. 
As Adam, sleeping in the noon of 
Eden, saw^ his bride, so from this gap- 
ing wound within My breast I saw My 



GETHSEMANT. 155 

spouse proceed, My spotless Church, the 
throng of virgins and of saints whose 
robes were glistening in the uncreated 
light, the children of the Word made 
flesh. And thus I turned and looked 
upon Myself ; in every nerve and 
sense I felt My crucifixion, and to the 
chalice of My mortal anguish put My 
lips. Was I God, so low, so agonized 
with pain ? Had the Love Eternal of the 
Father and the Spirit come to this? A 
prostrate form, too weak to stand, too 
helpless to lie still, convulsed with 
agony, bleeding freely, all alone, without 
a wound ! Yes, this is God ! Here is the 
horror of the scene. Here is the source 
of pain. He does not die. He takes 
up every drop of anguish possible, is 
crucified before His time, because He is 
your God. 

Now, My precious child, if to thee I 
tell this agony, it is that I may to thy 
soul unfold the depth of My great love 



156 GETHSEMA1S1. 

for tliee. I suffered so that I might 
teach thee many lessons — lessons thou 
must learn if thou wilt come so near 
Me as thy heart would wish, and really 
touch Me with thy hands, and lay thy 
head upon My breast, and feel the pres- 
sure of Mine arms, and even hope to 
taste the kisses of My lips. I would 
that I might speak to thee, as I cannot 
speak to all. I would that I might 
here reveal to thine enlightened mind 
a little of the wealth that dwells in Me, 
a little of the treasure that thy Jesus 
is. I am God, and yet I would be 
thine, as if thou wast My only love. 
Can you know the length and breadth, 
and depth and height, of mercy infinite ? 
My agony of pain was needed to the 
blessing of thy cross. I grieve to see 
thee suffer pain. I bore thy griefs 
upon My heart. Thy sorrows, too, were 
all n Mine. How can I lead thee after 
Me, and make thee like thy Master, 



GETHSEMANI. 157 

if thou hast no cross? How purge thee 
from thy dross, and in thy senses heal 
the wounds of sin ? How refine the 
founts of feeling at their source, and 
make thy limbs and members fit to 
touch My flesh, if there be no agony 
like Mine? How canst thou pay thy 
debt to justice as exacting as divine, 
and so be free to stand before Me where 
My angels are not clean, if there be no 
penance laid on thee? And so I go 
before thee with My staff and rod. I 
hold thee up while thus in mercy I 
chastise thee. It is thy loving Lord 
that deals the blows. They fall from 
bleeding hands ; they come from pity 
infinite ; they hurt Me too, and I am 
weeping with thee. I must hide My 
face when tears are falling fast, and 
make thee feel that I am angry with 
thee. When My heart is breaking to 
console thee I cannot listen to the 
plea. I am truest to thee in thy pain, 



158 GETHSEMA1ST. 

which is My grief. Thou didst ask for 
purity. Thou didst pray for My em- 
brace. Canst thou, then, descend with- 
in the Olive shades with Me, that I may 
lead thee to the inner life where I un- 
veil the riches of My grace ? 

Thou shalt never know a garden ago- 
ny like Mine. The faintest shadow of 
the night is all I ask for thee. It 
shall wrap thy soul in gloom. It shall 
hurt as God alone can hurt. My fingers 
all divine shall touch the aching wounds, 
and play upon them as a God. Then 
think of Me when thus thy hour shall 
come. Let not the tempter lure thee 
to despair. I am with thee, mightier, 
dearer far than when I send the beams 
of joy or fill thee with the sweetness 
of My face. Didst thou know the 
heart thou choosest is a wounded heart, 
that thorns surround My brow, that 
marks of nails are in My hands? They 
that seek to follow Me, that would be 



GETHSEMANI. 159 

Mine, that long to know Me well, must 
touch the spear and thorns and nails. 
For I am crucified, and crucified shall 
be to every soul that finds the joy of 
My embrace. 

In pain I send there is a grace I 
cannot give thee with the smile of peace. 
There is a merit in the sorrow fierce 
that with discerning love I mete to 
thee. It is thy cross. It is thy share 
of Calvary. It is thy burial from earth. 
It is the night before the dawn ; the 
tomb that opens to a glorious life. 
Faint not, My child. Thou didst pro- 
fess to love Me unto death. If thy 
pang be fierce, thy agony severe, it is 
My greatest gift to thee. Then in 
thine anguish think of Me. Remember 
when in awful night I lay upon the 
crimsoned ground and sighed My life 
away for thee. Unite thy pains to 
Mine. They are well known to Me. 
I bore them all, and blessed them with 



160 GETHSEMAKL 

My tears. Thou didst ask to suffer with 
Me in the transports of thy love. Then 
suffer as I will. Thine agony of pain 
can never crush thy soul. Offer all for 
Me. And I will come, though thou 
shouldst never see My hands ; I will 
hold thy head and soothe thine aching 
heart. Each pang I sanctify with gentle- 
ness divine. I come with pain to those 
I love. I am a sword to sever, and a 
fire to burn. Each sorrow is a step that 
leads within My home ; each grief the 
messenger of grace, guiding to a truer 
nearness to thy heavenly Love. I am 
winning thee, detaching thee from earth, 
and clothing thee in bridal raiment for 
thy King. Watch and wait, and tremble 
not. Listen in thy grief. The marriage- 
bells are sounding in thine ears. The 
Bridegroom dear is coming with His train. 
Celestial music falls from angel harps; 
their choirs are singing welcome to the 
bride. 



GETHSEMAJSTI. 161 

Thine hour of death shall be thine 
hour of joy, when from thy bed of pain 
I lift thee up, to show to thee My face, 
to tell thee of My love, that I have 
loved thee long, that I will love thee 
to eternity. 



Meditation Sixth. 



TEE AGONY OF A WOUNDED HEART. 



MEDITATION SIXTH. 



THE AGONY OF A WOUNDED HEART, 



"And they shall say to Him: What are these wounds in Thy 
hands ? And He shall say : With these was I wounded in the 
house of them that loved Me."— Zacharias xiii. 6. 

When my blessed Master spoke these 
joyous words my soul entranced seemed 
lost in Him. For a moment I forgot the 
fearful gloom which so encompassed me. 
My darkness seemed to turn to light, 
and far away my prayers were travel- 
ling to the land of peace, where tears 
and sorrow are unknown. I looked 
above me ; through the parting clouds 
I saw the paradise of God, where 
'mid the lilies, by the banks of crys- 
tal streams, the heavenly Shepherd 

165 



166 GETHSEMANI. 

leads His flock. Angels in their bright 
array were there, and virgin souls were 
kneeling round the King. My agony of 
pain was turned to ecstasy ; the wounds 
the bleeding fingers touched were rays 
of light. I saw the ladder there as 
from the earth it reached to heaven. 
I saw the saints ascending to the 
throne. Upon the throne I saw the 
form of my Beloved ; with grace and 
majesty He sat ; the splendor of His 
face was brighter than the sun in his 
meridian strength. For a moment I for- 
got the garden where He suffered so, 
and I knew not the place in which I was 
nor where His love would guide me. 
When He is near I take no thought of 
time nor place. And He had lifted me 
away from earth. I seemed to lean upon 
His breast, all pain and danger past ; to 
look with love into His blessed eyes ; to 
see the glory of His smile, and feel the 
pressure of His arms. my Beloved! 



GETHSEMANI. 167 

how can I thank Thee for this grace ! 
How dear Thou art to me ! Thy sweet- 
ness melts my soul. I am not living 
now, for Thou indeed art living in me. 
Blessed life to live in Him ! One heart, 
one will, one joy ! Only Jesus ! There 
is nothing else. My very being cries 
with bliss, and speaks at every breath 
His precious name. 

How long my ecstasy endured I can- 
not tell. Can angels count the moments 
of their blissful life before the King? 
I had travelled far, and I was blest 
indeed. It seemed no shadow could 
approach the home where with my Je- 
sus I was feasting on His face. Had I 
forgot the Olive shades, the trembling 
form of my Beloved, the piteous cries, 
the sweat of blood? I had not forgot- 
ten Him; and yet He seemed to cast 
aside His crimson robe. I saw no tears 
upon His cheeks. His eyes so dear 
were full of smiles. Now suddenly 



168 GETHSEMANX. 

there came a change— an awful change. 
From my brief joy there came a new 
and fearful grief. The light was gone. 
The gloom was deeper than before. 
The cold of icy winter chilled me 
through. I tried to see : my sight had 
gone. I tried to feel : there was no 
sense to guide my hands or feet. An 
awful pain was seizing on my heart ; 
and in the night, so dense that every 
pulse was stilled, I heard a piteous cry. 
Oh ! I have never heard a cry like that ! 
Agony, as that of *God, took voice, and 
there came upon the deep a wail of sor- 
row which unnerved me till I prayed 
for death. It is the angel of the grave 
that wraps his wings around my life ; I 
feel the touch of his cold pinions and 
the darkness of the tomb ! No, I am 
not dead ! I yet can hear. I hear my 
Master dear. I cannot err. I know His 
voice. Oh ! art Thou suffering more, 
my blessed Love? Couldst Thou suffer 



GETHSEMAIST. 169 

more ? Hadst Thou not reached the 
height of pain ? Only now Thy tones 
were not so full of tears. There was a 
trembling in Thy voice, as if the agony 
were breaking and the clouds that 
covered Thee were slowly passing on 
their way. What hath happened Thee ? 
O my Master ! speak to me once more. 
What new grief hath come to crush 
Thee in Thy weakness now ? 

He did not reply. I waited long. I 
prayed with all my soul. I begged for 
strength. I wept until my eyes were 
blind, and then I sobbed as if my heart 
would break. In this awful stillness, 
where I strained my hearing till it 
seemed that sense would cease, I heard 
again that piteous wail. O spirits of the 
light ! oh ! may I call you to this gloom ? 
Can you help me hear these sorrow- 
ing tones, and live? Ah, hark! let not 
a pinion move ; let not a breath from 
earth or heaven disturb me now. Oh ! 



170 GETHSEMANI. 

He is crying to the Father, not to me. 
And will the Father hear? " Father, 
Father ! must I drink this cup ? Is 
there no relief? Could I be spared this 
torment of My wounded heart ? Oh ! 
must it be ? Must I take this chalice 
drear? I am broken now with grief. 
Is this Thy will ? I feel the agony 
will kill Me with its awful pain." 

Then there came a pause. I heard 
the sound of sighs that pierced me like 
a thousand arrows in my flesh, and sobs 
so weak, and yet so pitiful, that in my 
fear I struggled hard to move, while 
seeming bands of ice were holding me 
like bars of iron in their mighty grasp. 
I could not move a limb or sense. 
Surely my heart is ceasing now to beat, 
I cried ; the hour is come. Oh ! where 
is my Beloved? Shall I go and thus 
bid Him farewell? 

Listen once again. He speaks: " Fa- 
ther, Thy will be done. It thus must 



GETHSEMANT. 171 

be. I take the cup. My hands are 
trembling so I cannot hold it to My 
month. Take Thou the chalice that 
I dread, and with Thy hands divine 
uplift it to My lips. My heart is 
wounded to the death — wounded as the 
Son of Grod alone could be — and yet I 
take it all. Oh ! spare Me not. There 
is no more. When I have taken up the 
dregs of this My fearful cup, there is 
no more that I can do ! Prostrate on 
the ground I lie. I kiss the earth 
again. It hath not wounded Me. It 
takes My tears. It drinks My blood, 
and doth not cast Me off with scorn. I 
here lie still and rest My aching heart 
and agonizing limbs a little ere the 
traitor comes. I hear his footsteps now. 
O earth! I lean upon thee. Let Me 
weep a little more. The fount is open 
now. My scalding tears will ease the 
pain that seems like death ; and yet I 
will not, cannot die. O My Judas ! 



172 GETHSEMANI. 

My people ! come not now so fast. Let 
Me rest a little here till in the earth I 
dry Mine eyes and gather strength to 
bear My cross." 

O my Jesus ! I cannot tell to creatures 
how these words affrighted me, how 
they almost took my reason from me.' 
I seemed to lose myself in grief, to be 
myself an agony. I need not tell to 
Thee my woe. Thou wilt well remem- 
ber all. For Thou didst hear my tear- 
ful prayer. And when it seemed that 
life would go where reason fled, and 
death would come before Thy voice 
would speak to me again, I heard the 
tones I love beyond the harps of hea- 
ven. They were weaker than before, 
more full of sadness sweet. I knew 
they came through tears. Listen, my 
trembling heart ! my Beloved speaks to 
me. Let my whole being wait, and 
kneel before Him with adoring faith ! 
Oh ! can I say it, dare I say it now ? 



GETHSEMAKI. 173 

I cherish as the dearest gift of God the 
message that He gave to me. Be still, 
my every sense ! Awake the fires of 
love. Around the prostrate, bleeding 
form oh! let them kindle into flame. 

My child, these hours of grief are 
nearly passed. The Olive shades will 
soon be left alone. I have suffered all. 
No worse can man inflict. This chalice 
was not needed to My sacrifice. The 
souls whom I redeem might spare Me 
this. They have wounded Me where I 
am weak. In the tenderest points of 
that most sacred heart with which I 
loved them so, they have hurt Me unto 
death. These wounds will never heal. 
Oh ! they hurt Me so that I can hardly 
speak. To tell of them is agony, and 
like the poisoned spear that turns with- 
in an open wound. Know you, My 
child — oh ! can you ever know — the 
awfulness of sin that hurts the heart of 
God? Know you how your God can 



174 GETHSEMAISTI. 

feel ? I was the victim for their sins. 
I willed to suffer and to bleed. I was 
even anxious in My love to die. I 
spared no sorrow from My life. There 
was no pain I did not gladly bear. 
But was it needed they should turn 
against Me with ingratitude ? Could 
they not have recognized the strength 
of My affection, and have blessed Me 
for My blood? And if they could not 
praise My grace nor thank Me for My 
cross, was it for them to put to scorn 
My lowliness, despise My longing love, 
and trample on My blood as if I were 
not God, as if I were not even man? 

Oh ! hast thou ever known the stings 
that wound so deep within the house of 
friends ? Hast thou, then, tasted that 
ingratitude which chills the heart and 
turneth every tenderness to pain ? Who 
are those who wound like friends? A 
love that could not meet response, 
despised with rude ingratitude becomes 



GETHSEMANI. 175 

the source of bitterness, and dwells 
within the wounded heart to be a 
memory of pain. The hands are open 
and the breast is bare. The traitor 
knows where he can strike and leave a 
wound which time will never heal. 

And if thou hast ever known the 
stings that come from friends, and if 
thy heart be sore, then think of Me. 
Compare My love to thine. Compare the 
little thou hast borne with My great 
weight of pain. To seek for gratitude, 
some slight return for all I bore, to look 
for some affection to console My grief 5 
this was indeed My right. My heart was 
yearning for some love. Was I not 
God ? Did I not wear the beauty which 
the angels tremble to adore ? Had I not 
attractions strong enough to win My peo- 
ple to Me ? There was never seen on 
earth a face like Mine. My breast was 
filled with all the gentleness of God. 
My words were sweet and tender to 



176 GETHSEMAtfl. 

bring peace to each afflicted soul. " I 
did not strive nor cry. I did not break 
the bruised reed, nor quench the smok- 
ing flax." I healed the sick, I raised 
the dead. I let the mourner lean on Me ; 
and when the light of earth was fled, I 
turned aside the cloud and showed the 
broken heart the light of heaven. Why 
could I fail to win their love? I took 
their sorrows as Mine own. I died to 
save them from the wrath of God. I 
shed My blood to wash them from their 
stains. I gave them everything I had — 
My life, My body to be tortured, and My 
soul to direst agony. My name, My 
spotless fame, the anguish of My Mother 
dear, the torments of My saints, were 
all a sacrifice to cleanse them from their 
sins and draw them to Mine arms. 

O ye benighted race of man ! do you 
not know that God is dying for your 
sins? And have you know r n how He 
can suffer and how He can love ? 



GETHSEMASTI. 177 

This is not all the burden of My woe. 
The death of shame was not enough fox 
Me. This cruel death did not exhaust 
the yearning of My soul. Before I died 
My testament was made, and ratified 
upon the cross. I could not say farewell. 
I must remain with those so dear to Me, 
with those My passion bought, with 
those I washed with blood. My legacy 
was then indeed Myself. The victim of 
the cross remains on earth. The sacrifice 
endures. I give My body and My 
blood, My soul and My divinity, to be 
the food of such as will partake of 
Me. Upon the altars in the rite divine 
will I be offered to the end of time. 
Within the tabernacle so lowly and so 
little shall be seen My home. A pri- 
soner will I dwell with men ; and seek 
for hearts that love, and win them to 
be Mine. I will change them by My 
flesh, transform them by My blood. 
They shall be one with Me, as I am one 



178 GETHSEMANI. 

with God. I can do no more. The In- 
finite has reached the bounds of power. 
This is the work of love divine. I do 
not simply die — I come to live and 
dwell in them, where My humanity shall 
be the source of life eternal and of beauty 
ever new. I clasp them to My breast, 
and as I embrace their feebleness they 
change from glory unto glory, when My 
heart is satisfied and I have taught them 
how to love. 

Now, what return have I for all this 
wealth of grace, for all this revelation 
of the yearning of My soul ? I have 
indeed the chalice of ingratitude to drink 
— ingratitude so deep that God alone can 
measure it. This was the answer from 
the race of men, when thus in humbled 
form, a beggar at their doors, with bleed- 
ing hands and feet, I sought their hearts. 
Oh ! this the fearful cup I dreaded so 
need not have been My agony ! I did 
not ask the Father from My pains to 



GETHSEMAIST. 179 

take one pang. I did not seek to put 
away the spear or nail. I even kissed 
the cross when ruffian hands were press- 
ing it upon My wounded back. No, I 
would have suffered more, if that were 
possible. I only asked for gratitude. 
Was that too much to ask ? Could a 
sorrowing, dying Grod, the victim for the 
sins of men, not ask this boon ? My 
soul cried out in tears: "I ask a little 
of your love. Is this too much ? The 
Incarnate Word is kneeling to you in 
His crimson robe 1 You love the crea- 
ture god who seeks you for himself ; 
you take the poisoned fruit and flow- 
ers that blossom for the grave ; you run 
for honors, and the golden idols which 
decay ; you follow fast the fallen spi- 
rits coming from their hell to draw you 
there. Can you not see your God, re- 
vealing you His heart, imploring 3^011 
to seek the riches that endure, and have 
your part with angels who are reigning 



180 GETHSEMAKI. 

in His light ?" From many My response 
was scorn. They seemed to trample on 
My blood, and threw their weight on Me, 
as I lay crushed beneath the wrath that 
smote Me for their crimes. 

I saw the long procession of the lost, 
the souls I could not save. They stood 
before Me as I cried for them with sobs 
and tears. I numbered all their graces 
costing Me My life, the sins I tried to^ 
purge them from, the sorrows that I 
sought to heal. I followed with a pa- 
tience which was turned by no ingrati- 
tude, with gentleness that might have 
moved the heart of stone. I gave them 
sacraments ; I threw My blood before 
them ; I even offered them My flesh. 
It was all in vain. Their lives are now 
the saddest history of wasted grace. 
They had love for others, for the things 
of sense, for the baser pleasures which 
defile, but none for Me. They accepted 
every friend, and even leaned on selfish 



GETHSEMAINT. 181 

hearts. They rejected Me. They took 
the creature and refused their God. 
And now their cup is misery beyond 
the power of man to know. The flames 
of hell must burn them to eternity, when 
one drop of blood I shed had earned 
them heaven, the joys of bliss with Me. 
I am wasted on their lost and darkened 
souls. And in the smoke and fire as- 
cending now before the throne I see 
their faces full of hate, their hideous 
writhings with the fangs of demons fierce, 
or hear the oaths they utter while in 
their agony they curse My name. O 
sinners lost ! I suffered then for you 
within the garden and on Calvary I 
Why could I not have saved you from 
your awful doom? Why were your 
hearts so cold to Me, or so unmindful 
of My grief ? Oh ! tell Me, what can 
be the agony of wasted human love ? If 
this be pain, then think of Him who, 
equal to the Father, and God's only 



182 GETHSEMANI. 

Son, poured out His blood and broke 
His heart for you ! 

The dreadful thought with anguish 
almost stifles life. It is because I loved 
them so that they have found the way 
to hurt Me; that of My heart's great 
tenderness for them they made the source 
of all My direst pain. Had I not been 
their brother in the flesh, how had they 
pierced Me with the nail and spear ? 
Had I not willed to take the cup of 
poverty and toil, had they reproached 
Me for My lowliness ? Had I not died 
that they might live, could they have 
laughed Me like a criminal to scorn, 
and even for My cross have learned 
to treat me with despite ? If My pre- 
cious blood had not been shed like water 
poured upon the earth, could they have 
trampled on it, as it begged to heaven 
for mercy on their souls ? Had I not 
followed them in all their devious ways, 
seeking them within the desert drear 



GETHSEMAKL 183 

amid the wrecks of crime, could they 
have turned on Me and called Me beg- 
gar, man despised, and not a God? If 
in their ruin sad I had not held to them 
the hands divine, when none were near 
to rescue them ; had I not laid them 
on My bleeding shoulders, aching with 
the cold, and borne them home without 
reproach, to cleanse them with My blood, 
to feed them with My flesh, could they 
in base ingratitude have spurned My 
arms, and crimsoned with the current of 
My life, have run to creature love, and 
brought defilement where My spotless 
body once was laid ? Had I not sought 
them starving, freezing with the cold, 
and taken them to My embrace, and 
warmed them on My breast, could they 
have turned to sting and wound Me 
with the life that came from Me ? And 
in that sacrament divine where I re- 
peat the sorrows of My cross, am daily 
sacrificed for those I seek to save, how 



184 GETHSEMAKI. 

is My wounded heart o'erwhelmed with 
grief ? I am a prisoner at their will. I 
veil the glories of My deity, and wait 
on them as if I were the creature bound 
beneath their bonds, and even less than 
man. Upon My sacramental throne I 
reign as if an exile from My Father's 
court, with few to bow before My lowli- 
ness. Alone I wait, forgotten or de- 
spised, where angels come to comfort 
Me, to cheer the sadness of My heart 
with songs I hear around the throne. 
Within this prison of My love I sit to 
see the faithless pass, unmindful of My 
grief, regardless of My pain. I bear 
the cross upon My breast ; the thorny 
crown is on My brow ; the nails are in 
My hands and feet ; the spear is in My 
heart. I sit and read the thoughts of 
men ; I taste their base ingratitude. 
And so Gethsemani comes back to Me, 
while in My bleeding hands I hold My 
broken heart. The Olive shades sur- 



&ETHSEMAOT. 185 

round Me there while there I dwell to 
take the chalice which I dreaded so, 
which in the garden drear convulsed 
Me with the sweat of blood. Oh ! how 
I suffer now ! How deep within My 
heart this awful sting goes down ! Oh ! 
let Me weep awhile. The tears will 
bring relief. Oh! let Me bow Mine 
eyes and hide them here. The grass, 
now reddened with My blood, shall drink 
the sighs which neither God nor man 
will hear. It is the hurt which not the 
hands divine can heal, the fearful wound 
which, like a flame of fire, is burning 
in My breast. O My broken, broken 
heart, so soon to beat no more, I can- 
not ease thy pain ! Take, oh ! take thy 
cup of agony. There is no cure. Thou 
art wounded unto death. 

And then, white tears ran down, the 
soul seemed parting from the body in 
a sharper pain than death. I looked 
to see if there were consolation from 



186 GETHSEMAJSTI. 

the home of friends. And as I looked 
My hands were pierced anew. I laid 
them on the chilling grass, as they were 
burning so. I stretched them out, that 
I might see the source of this new pain. 
Alas ! I touched the cross, I saw the 
ruffian with the nails. What home have 
I on earth ? With My Mother was I 
once for long and blessed years. I was 
an exile far beyond the sea ; but then 
I laid My wearied head upon her loving 
breast ! Although the Son of God was 
driven from homes of earth, in pov- 
erty ignored, I had a rest within her 
gentle arms, and it was home to Me to 
feel her touch and see her smile. Now 
that home is broken up. She hath no 
resting-place, and I, her child, must die 
among the skulls, upon the cross. Her 
precious hands cah never touch Me 
more till I am dead. She cannot smile 
on Calvary. No, I have no home on 
earth. No one so desolate as I. And 



GETHSEMAJVTI. 187 

as I lie upon the ground I feel the 
footsteps of the traitor as he conies ; 
and, leading on his band with swords 
and staves, he ventures to betray Me 
with a kiss. Ah ! yes, the faithless soul 
with smiles will come, and ask from 
Me the recognition of a friend, the fond 
embrace with which I used to tell him 
of My love. This Judas sells Me for 
a paltry price. I see his heart with 
avarice possessed. He will deny Me 
with despair; before My Easter morn 
shall dawn, the morn that heralds far 
and wide the everlasting day, he sinks 
by his own hand among the flames 
of hell. Oh! can I bear this awful 
wound, this dire ingratitude ! And 
must I lose on Calvary's height the 
soul of Mine apostle % Must I be then 
betrayed by one so near to Me, so dear- 
ly loved ? O these wounds within 
My hands ! they ache, they smart with 
anguish dire ! Alas ! My Judas comes 



188 &ETHSEMANI. 

not here alone. There are many traitors 
in his train. He leads the long proces- 
sion as they pass with spear and staves. 
They sell Me to My foes, betray Me for 
the things of time, prefer the pleasures 
of the world to Me, and for the honors 
of the earth deny My faith. They kiss 
me with their lips, they call them- 
selves My chosen ones, will even boast 
of that embrace wherewith I bade them 
rest within My arms, and yet will drive 
Me from their hearts, and welcome to 
My throne some sensual god, some spirit 
lost who only seeks them for the misery 
of hell. 

The more I love the more I feel, and 
they whom I love most have power to 
wound Me where the keenest pangs af- 
flict M}^ aching heart. Oh ! how I feel 
the slightest shadow of untruth from 
them, the slightest coldness to My 
yearning love. I am all theirs by ties 
divine ; why cannot they be wholly 



GETHSEMAISTI. 189 

Mine ? Why must I fail to draw 
them to Myself alone? Am I not God? 
Can creature love be stronger than the 
love of God ? I must be jealous of the 
hearts I choose. I cannot see another 
sit upon My throne. Oh ! why, My 
dearest chosen ones, why wound My 
soul so sensitive, so full of tenderness? 
Why must love of self, the vanity of 
empty pride, sometimes the cravings of 
the senses, come between Me and your 
souls ? Why am I not alone your end 
supreme? Why are you so cold to 
Me, as if My presence were fatigue? 
Oh ! how you hurt Me when I feel 
that after all My grace, the promises 
of constancy renewed, the ring you wear 
in token of a heavenly spouse, the nup- 
tial pledges of our love, I am not the 
master of your heart. Why must I win 
you by My tears? Why must I touch 
you with a bleeding hand and give you 
pain ? Why must I break the idols 



190 GETHSEMANI. 

of the earth and make your home so 
desolate ? Why, oh ! why can I not 
win you by My grace, by the beauty 
of My face ? Why must I weep to 
look on you? Why choose you not the 
joyous smile which gladdens heaven ? 
When will you learn what bitter tears 
you made Me shed, and what it costs 
to make you true, to hold you as you 
struggle from My arms ? I seek pure 
souls ; and they alone can be the place 
of My repose. Why must the bitter- 
ness of sin bring souls to Me? Why 
must I ever go to deserts drear to seek 
My wandering sheep? Why will they 
renew the sorrows of My path to Cal- 
vary ? Why must I bear them on My 
bleeding shoulders as My cross, and 
tremble with their coldness, as My 
hands and feet are aching with their 
wounds ? Oh ! how it costs Me pain to 
purify their souls from stain, and lead 
them, as I must, through paths of peni- 



GETHSEMAISTX. 191 

tence, to make tliem feel a little of My 
grief and bear a portion of the cross 
with Me ! Some souls are true and will- 
ing in this tearful way ! My wounded 
heart will tell to God ; it cannot tell 
to thee, the love I have for virgin 
hearts who are indeed My brides, who 
have no love but Mine — My saints who 
walk beside Me, looking always on My 
face. 1 clasp their hands in Mine. I 
am with them in shadows dark, in 
winter's cold, in summer's heat, in all 
the struggles of their life, in all the 
agonies of death. And when I look be- 
yond the grave, and see the sinless fire 
My hands have kindled for Mine own, 
see how My chosen suffer there, oh! think 
you not that I am hurt indeed? They 
suffer so for their ingratitude, because 
they were not faithful to My grace, 
because a/t times they chose another 
love than Mine. These spots upon 
their raiment white are marks of infi- 



192 GETHSEMANI. 

delity to Me. My flowing tears could 
not wash out the stain. My tender 
heart was not enough. The powers of 
sense were stronger than their vows to 
God. There must be fire whose search- 
ing strength shall burn the dross and 
leave the gold in virgin purity. And 
yet these agonizing fires need not have 
been for them ! They might have given 
Me their hearts and never hurt Me 
with the stings of coldness or ingrati- 
tude. 

Upon My sacramental throne I sit by 
day and night, the God of love, the pri- 
soner bound in hand and foot. I yearn 
to give My light and heat, to cheer 
the darkened soul with rays from hea- 
ven, to speak as God made man alone 
can speak to every suffering heart. Oh ! 
how My wounded breast is bleeding 
there, while I thus sit alone, with none 
but angels to adore, or kneel to pray 
My erring children home, or stand to 



GETIISEMANI. 193 

bless the pilgrim as he presses on to 
Me ! In that divine repose, where I am 
all for those I love, the fountain flow- 
ing full cf pity infinite, the source of 
strength where flesh is weak, I waste 
the tenderness which springs at every 
moment new. The treasure of My heart 
is neither felt nor known. Sometimes 
I am ignored, sometimes forgotten. It 
wearies so the flesh to spend one hour 
with Me. My children dear, they call 
Me Spouse ; they speak of My affection 
as their right ; they say there is no love 
like Mine, and yet they cannot come 
and kneel before Me as the lover to the 
loved; they cannot bid the earth retire, 
and think of Me alone! I see them wea- 
ried as they kneel. The garden scene is 
ever wounding Me, where I am weakest 
in My love. They are sleeping like the 
three apostles when the shadows fell. 
With heavy eyes they are unconscious 
of My grief for them.. And when they 



194 GETHSEMANI. 

come to take Me as their food, and 
My whole being springs with joy to 
give them all I have and am, how 
coldly do they come ! How chilling 
to My warm affection their response ! 
What have they to say to Me when in 
all the ardor of a ]ove divine I speak 
to them, when My hands are eager to 
embrace them in a fond caress and pour 
My wealth upon their souls? Are 
they indeed like lovers to their heaven- 
ly Spouse ? Sometimes I hear no words, 
sometimes I see no tears, sometimes 
their thoughts are wandering far from 
Me ; they seem unmindful that the Bride- 
groom comes, that God is loving them 
as He alone can love. O My heart ! the 
heart of God, how dost thou waste thy 
grace ! The wealth of deity, the riches 
that make glad the courts of heaven, are 
thus unknown, unseen of men on earth. 
And now, my child, I will not tell 
thee of thyself. The lesson thou hast 



GETHSEMANI. 195 

learned within these awful shades, where 
thou hast seen a little of My bitter pain, 
will teach thee of thy share within 
the wounded heart of thy Beloved. I 
grieve and yet I love to see thee weep, 
as here thou dost recall the many stings 
thy faithlessness has sharpened for My 
breast. Thou wilt remember all thy 
wandering steps, the idols thou hast 
worshipped in My stead, the creatures 
that as shadows came to dim My light, 
the hours when I was not thy Love su- 
preme. Thy sobs are hurting Me as 
here I lie so weak ; and yet thy tears 
are washing out the marks of guilt. The 
shadows are departing one by one. The 
idols are in ruins here. The wrecks of 
thine inconstancy are in this garden 
strewn. Thou wilt not touch again the 
snares thou hast forsaken here. The 
creature love is dead for ever now. It 
shall not arise again. Thou shalt go 
with Me to Calvary. Thou shalt see Me 



196 GETHSEMAKI. 

die. The nails that hold Me to the 
cross shall fasten thee to Me. Thou 
shalt wound My heart no more. 

Now, my new-born child thus bathed 
in blood, I here accept thy vows. Kneel 
here in truth. Reach out thy hand to 
Me. Thou canst not see Me as I touch 
thee in this night of pain. Yet thou 
canst hear and feel. Hold fast to Me ! 
I come to put My ring upon thy hand. 
Does the pledge of Mine espousals pain? 
The finger bleeds which I shall press. 
Look w T ell and see— not thy blood is 
flowing here, but Mine ! Oh ! strange 
indeed this bridal chamber of thy King, 
the garden of His woe, the deepest sha- 
dows of Gethsemani! The music of the 
nuptial song the sobs of thy Beloved ! 
The marriage-garment crimsoned with 
His blood ! The words of His espousals 
the sad language of a wounded heart ! 
And now I have a moment only to pre- 
pare. Kneel here, My loving child, be- 



GETHSEMAffl. 197 

side Me. I can speak no more. It eases 
the sharp pain consuming Me to know 
that thou art here* Oh ! dost thou 
truly love Me now? Then let Me hold 
thy hand one moment more. Alas ! 
the traitor's steps I hear. My face is 
swollen and My lips are red. I must 
kiss him when he comes. One moment 
more, My precious child, to tell Me of 
your love while I bow down My aching 
head and hold My breaking heart. One 
more sob, and life would go before the 
time. My Father, come to Me and I 
will weep no more ! The chalice of My 
agony I give back to Thee.- Behold 
Thy Son has drunk its dregs. Oh ! 
chase away the clouds, and let Mine 
angels come. 

My cup of fear, of loneliness, of sad- 
ness drear, of awful pain, the stings 
that pierce the heart divine — I offer all 
to Thee for those I love. Let them draw 
near in this My nuptial hall, amid the 



198 GETHSEMAKL 

drooping olive-trees. Then touch, oh ! 
for an instant touch the harps of hea- 
ven, and let Me hear the songs that 
cheer the Bridegroom's breaking heart. 
And then, as all is ready, let the won- 
drous rite proceed. 

Bow down, O ye bright angels of My 
court ! and to this garden come. This 
is indeed the garden of My loves ; and 
here in fertile soil the flowers shall 
bloom to smile upon the banks of crys- 
tal streams where I shall lead My vir- 
gin train, the spouses of My agonizing 
soul. For a moment let the shadows of 
My cross depart ; let the rays of hea- 
venly light descend ; let the Seraphim 
and Cherubim in bright array begin 
their song. It is the Word of God, 
the Word made flesh, that bleeds and 
dies upon His wedding-day. 



Meditation Seventh. 



JESUS CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 



MEDITATIOH SEYEHTH. 



JESUS CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 



" He was offered because it was His own will : He shall be 
led as a sheep to the slaughter, and shall be dumb as a 
lamb before his shearer, and He shall not open His mouth."— 
Isaias liii. 7. 

My lieart was filled with peace and 
joy unlike the sweetness I had some- 
times known before. Oh ! was it joy 
amid the scenes of this Gethsemani? I 
know not what it was. My Blessed Mas- 
ter seemed so near to me ; and when He 
told me of the nuptial rite, I felt the 
pressure of His hands, and I seemed 
borne away, away from all things sensi- 
ble. Did the bliss of heaven come then 
an instant to expel the sadness from 
my soul? I cannot tell. My lips were 

moving to one word, " Jesus, Master, my 
201 



202 GETHSEMAISTI. 

Beloved, draw me close to Thee. Am 
I going to the altar now with Thee? 
Are these the wedding garments for my 
King ? Shall I behold Him in His beauty 
here ? Jesus, Master, how I love Thee 
now ! " I dare not speak of what He 
seemed to say to me. How could He 
embrace me so, and to one like me pour 
out the sweetness which entranced my 
soul, my will, my every faculty ? If this 
be not the paradise I seek, oh ! what 
shall be the joy when earth and sorrow 
shall be past, and I shall see my Jesus 
as He is ? O love divine ! Thou art in- 
deed the Word made Flesh. Thou art 
my Spouse, my Master, and my God. 
I feel the breath of angels near, while 
their celestial arms are holding me that 
I may live. I am so blest, and yet I do 
not die. 

I was looking up to heaven with strain- 
ing eyes. It seemed there was no earth. 
Some strong attraction fixed my gaze, 



GETHSEMAISTI. 203 

and for the fulness of my sight I conld 
not see. Then suddenly, I know not 
when, I know not how, the vision ceased 
and I awoke. I was in the garden 
still, and yet the blessed place was not 
so dark. The rays that had entranced 
me so were not all gone. I was kneel- 
ing still where I had knelt so long. I 
was confused in mind. My memory 
seemed gone. I tried to gather up the 
broken threads and to recall what I had 
seen. This is the garden still. It is 
not gone. Here is the place of prayer. 
Think, my soul, you have not moved. 
Here was your Beloved laid. Here you 
saw His sweat of blood. Here He told 
you of His agony. Mark well the olive- 
trees. Can they ever be forgotten ? 
Yes, I said, it is the place. It is Geth- 
semani. I am not moving now, yet I 
am coming back. Oh ! yes, I see, and 
yet the cloud is gone ! My sight begins 
to grow upon me. I can hear a little, 



204 GETHSEMANI. 

too. What are the sounds that fall 
upon my senses now ? There are voices 
sweet and sad, unlike the tones of earth. 
If I do not hear, I feel the harmony of 
some celestial song. Oh ! thanks to 
God, I see some angel forms. They fill 
me with their peace. They are kneeling 
now. I cannot see my Master dear as 
they surround Him, bowing to the earth 
with adoration. And I am kneeling, 
too, with them. O my Beloved ! let 
them tell with their angelic tongues 
how I adore Thee, how my life with all 
its powers goes up to Thee. They are 
speaking now. I could not hear their 
words. Was it praise or prayer ? I 
cannot tell. It was the angels' offering 
to their King laid low. I tried to join 
my feeble voice when thus I felt the 
melody of heaven that floated in the air 
around my Master sad and bleeding 
from a wounded heart. And then I 
watched and prayed. O Thou my sor- 



GETHSEMANI. 205 

rowing Love ! wilt thou arise ? I heard 
Thee speak of Calvary, the weary- 
road that lay before Thee. How long 
upon the ground shall my Redeemer lie, 
as if it were His bed of death ? I saw 
the angels bow their heads and kiss the 
earth, and then He rose in majesty di- 
vine. O my Jesus ! let me look at Thee. 
Oh ! give me strength to see Thee as 
Thou art. These eyes are Thine, always 
and for ever Thine. 

He gave me strength. I saw His face 
once more. He turned and looked at me 
and smiled. Oh ! could I paint Him 
as He stood, so meek and pale, and 
stained with blood ! His face was sad, 
and yet it wore the majesty of God. 
His form was bent, His limbs moved 
feebly as with pain ; His hands were 
folded on His breast, His finger pointed 
to His heart. I yearned to run and 
throw my adoration at His feet. I could 
not move! The angels held me back. 



206 GETHSEMANI. 

The hour to kneel with spirits blest had 
not yet come. He takes His hands from 
their repose upon His breast ; He lifts 
them once again. The angels kneel. 
They kiss the ground once more. No 
word they speak. The light celestial is 
departing. I feel their pinions moving 
on the air ; and they are gone. 

I looked again. The darkness had re- 
turned. I could see no more, and yet I 
felt my Blessed Jesus there. I knew 
He stood alone. My dearest Love, I 
cried, what can I do ? I will never leave 
Thee ; Thou wilt never cast me off. 
Where Thou goest I will go, and if Thou 
shalt here abide I will remain with Thee. 
Oh ! let me be as angels at Thy side 
to comfort Thee. Listen to my plaint 
of love. I come, my Jesus, I will come, 
and where the seraphim were kneeling I 
will bow my head. 

He looked at me as He had never 
looked before. He drew me with that 



GETHSEMA1STI. 207 

sad face, and yet He held me back. He 
looked beyond me through the garden. 
My precious child, He said, you do not 
see nor hear. I have taken up your 
senses all, and hid them in My breast. 
Look there beyond you. See the torches 
gleam. Hear the tread of armed men. 
Their shouts are breaking on the air 
that now was filled with angels' song. 
They are pressing through these sacred 
shades. They will seize Me, bind Me 
with their ropes, beat Me with their 
staves, and drag Me off to death. Fare- 
well, My child. My hour is come ; re- 
member what I am to thee ; be brave 
and follow Me to Calvary. 

I turned away, but not away from 
Him. I was frightened at the noise I 
heard. Who could be profane enough to 
come with spear and sword within these 
sacred shades, where He had suffered 
so, where His precious blood had red- 
dened all the earth, where the grass 



208 GETHSEMAKI. 

had taken up His tears, where He was 
exhausted unto death ? Yes, who leads 
this ruffian band, with faces coarse, 
with language vile ? Alas ! the traitor 
conies before them. It is Judas, the 
apostle ; well he knows this garden of 
His Masters woe. With rapid tread 
and fearful face, as if some spirit lost 
possessed him, he is hurrying on. The 
lanterns shine like eyes of evil fire. O 
Judas ! stay thy course ! It is not too 
late ! The spear of your ingratitude 
has surely pierced His breast. Go 
kneel as you have often knelt before. 
Ask pardon for your foul offence, and 
you may feel the grace with which this 
garden fills the earth. Stay, thou trai- 
tor to thy God ; He will reveal His 
person here, and in the majesty divine 
will stand before thee ! Then I saw 
my mighty King as He arose, and 
raised His arm to heaven, and looked 
upon His enemies, The torches fell, 



GETHSEMANI. 209 

the spears and clubs were strewn upon 
the ground, and Judas and his band 
were as the dead. For a moment 
Jesus paused and held His arm above 
them as the glory of the Highest passed 
before me. My soul was full of praise. 
Triumphant songs were on my lips. 
"O my Beloved Lord!" I cried, "Thou 
art the King! Let these foes of Thine 
lie dead before Thee. Let not the ruf- 
fians touch Thy sacred flesh. Send 
them far away to darkness drear where 
spirits of the night shall bind them 
hand and foot. Let even Judas fall! 
What flame of hell is fierce enough to 
burn his treason out ? Oh ! I cannot let 
the traitor touch Thee, tender Master 
and my Friend. Give me the spear 
and let me stand in deadly strife be- 
fore him here!" It was but an instant 
that I waited then. My Jesus held 
me still. The air of majesty supreme 
was gone, and on His gentle face the 



210 GETHSEMANI. 

look of sad submission reigned. I heard 
Him say: " Whom seek ye, friends? I 
am Jesus ; it is My dearest name. Take 
Me at your will, and let My children 
leave in peace." Then my Blessed Mas- 
ter stood alone. The disciples were 
awake from sleep. The sound of arms 
had roused them in dismay. Some 
passed on and hid themselves amid 
the trees. James and John were valiant 
to the last, and came behind their Lord, 
while Peter drew the sword and struck 
for life. With kindling eyes the Mas- 
ter saw the wound that Peter made. 
He touched the bleeding gash and 
healed the foe, and sheathed the sword. 
tl Not now to fight for Me. The Lamb 
of God is offered by His will. The 
martyr's crown shall wait for you when 
He is gone. They cannot touch Me 
here unless I will. I have shown them 
now that I am God. Then let Me 
yield Myself, and, as the sheep to slaugh- 



GETHSEMANI. 211 

ter led, the Eternal Son shall in their 
hands be dumb." 

Oh ! then I saw the sight which like 
a lire is burning in my brain. I saw 
the treason reach its highest crime. I 
saw the kiss of love become the sign 
of foulest treachery. Oh ! can I ever 
blot from memory's page this awful 
scene ? My blessed Jesus stood so meek 
before the clamorous band. With eyes 
cast down, with sadness inexpressible, 
with sweetness all divine, He crossed 
His arms upon His breast and waited 
for the traitor. I saw Judas go to meet 
Him. What will he do? Will he dare 
to touch my Lord? Ah! he will do* 
more. I heard him say, turning to the 
leaders of his band: " Whomsoever I 
shall kiss, that same is He. Then for- 
ward come, and bind Him fast." Oh! I 
cried, it must not, cannot be ! He shall 
not kiss the dearest lips on earth and 
heaven, the swollen, bleeding lips of 



212 GETHSEMA1ST. 

my Beloved. I cannot bear it ! The 
sight will kill me ! I will run now and 
hold him fast. My trembling arms shall 
be as bands of iron to prevent this 
sacrilege. O my precious Love ! I will 
go before his stealthy steps ; he shall 
not touch the lips that are the joy of 
angels ! I tried to move. I could not 
stir. Some power invisible restrained 
my feet while in my grief I saw this 
outrage on my Lord. O Judas I fear : 
the day of deep remorse shall come. 
The worm that never dies shall sting 
thee with its cruel fangs. Alas ! I saw 
the traitor meet the look of pity from My 
Jesus' face with eyes of stone. I heard 
him say : "O Rabbi, hail?" I saw his 
lips upon the mouth of my most pre- 
cious Love. "Oh ! " in ardent grief I cried 
— "oh ! shall this traitor vile, who loves 
Thee not, presume to take the kiss for 
which the saints and angels sigh ? Oh f 
that I could pass between this Judas and 



GETHSEMANI. 213 

my Lord ; that I might kiss the blessed 
lips with all the love my soul could 
utter to Thee ! Then could I die in 
bliss. I cannot bear to see the vile ap- 
proach Thee. Thou art the Prince of 
hearts, the everlasting King ! And I will 
weep mine eyes away that I am bound 
and cannot here avenge this outrage 
on my Lord." Then did Jesus meekly 
speak to Judas, called him friend, and 
one more warning gave : " O Mine apos- 
tle ! has it come to this ? Is this the 
mark of Mine affection turned to treach- 
ery base % With the kiss of love dost 
thou betray Me here, and is there no 
remembrance of the past to lead thee to 
repentance % O Judas ! wait. The Vic- 
tim of the cross is near. The tree of 
life is planted here, and near its root 
the flames of hell are burning for thee. 
Must I lose thee, then, for ever?" 

Then He turned to me, and, while 
the tenderness of love was sounding in 



214 GETHSEMANI. 

His voice, tliere was the shadow of re- 
proach. " My child, thou didst promise 
to be brave, to follow Me where I 
should lead. Go not, then, before Me, 
nor anticipate My ways. Thou hast 
much to see and much to hear. If 
this outrage to My lips so saddens 
thee, what wilt thou do when thou 
shalt see Me beaten, mocked, mutilated 
with the cruel scourge, fainting, dying 
on the cross? You must follow Me 
and pray for courage and for grace. 
You may love Me with a weeping 
h^eart ; but the Master leads ; and where 
the Lamb is dumb the child must never 
speak. Look at my sorrowing face 
with tears ; watch My bending form as 
long as sight shall last. I will know 
that you are near, and I will see your 
looks of love. My fainting heart shall 
to the last accept the incense which 
ascends from yours. But stir not a 
hand or foot to take Me from Mv foes, 



GETHSEMANI. 215 

nor come between the spears now level- 
led at My breast. Follow Me, as dumb 
as I, and I will show thee how thy 
God can die." 

I did not move. I had no power. I 
saw the traitor point at my Beloved. I 
saw the ruffians seize Him with a rude- 
ness vile, as if some beast of prey were 
in his rage. My Master gave them such 
a look of pity and of pain, as He held 
out His arms that they might bind 
them fast, and bowed His glorious head 
tfiat they might take Him at their 
will. Oh ! those blessed arms, so dear 
to me — the arms that had embraced 
me in my grief — they were pinioned 
now! And He, so weak, fainting 
with the loss of blood, exhausted with 
His agony, is bound indeed. Great- 
ropes are tied around His waist. They 
tear Him with their cruel tension. He 
can scarcely breathe. Then I hear a 
laughter and the shout of scorn, as 



216 GETHSEMAET. 

they drag Him with the ropes away. 
"The Nazarene is ours," they cry. "He 
can no more escape. We will hurry 
Him to prison and to death." I watch- 
ed my blessed Master as they forced 
Him on. He turned and looked upon 
the Olive shades once more, as if to say 
farewell. I thought He looked at me, 
and as my tears flowed on I could not 
then restrain my heart. I was forced 
to kneel where He had knelt before I 
followed in His steps. I could not leave 
this sacred watch of prayer, the place 
of my espousals to my Love, until I 
kissed the earth which He had touched, 
until my aching head was bowed where 
He had lain, until my streaming eyes 
should feel the tears which He had shed. 
Oh ! it is too much for one like me to 
be where Thou hast been. Dearest Lord, 
I must stay here. How can I go away ? 
This garden is my home. I cannot bear 
the light of earth again. And then my 



GETHSEMAISTI. 217 

senses seemed to fail. I fell uncon- 
scious on the ground, and as I touched 
the crimsoned turf my sight was gone. 
There came an awful faintness, as my 
trembling lips could form no word. I 
seemed going, going far from all things 
seen. I was running in a fearful haste 
to catch my Master's sorrowing face, 
which passed before me like the light. 

O my Jesus dear ! Thou art gone, but 
I will overtake Thee. My rapid breath- 
ing now is agony ; I will not lose Thee. 
I will die without Thee here ! And 
then I heard the shouts again, the 
sound of armed men, the curses rising 
on the air. Where was I now? I was 
running fast, and breathless with fatigue. 
The torches gleamed before me, and the 
crowd was pushing on. I turned and 
tried to see my way. The garden was 
no more. How came I here so far from 
Him? The brook is passed, and here 
the city's walls stand frowning at me. 



218 GETHSEMATa. 

Where am I going, then, and where, 
oh ! where is my Beloved ? He could 
not think me traitor, that I was not 
brave enough to follow Him, that I did 
not love Him well enough to stay until 
the end! How long was I unconscious 
then % I ran with eager haste ; I 
followed as the crowd surrounded me, 
and soon I found myself before the 
court of Annas. How I entered there, 
or how the rabble gave me place, I 
could not tell. My heart was lead- 
ing me to my Beloved. And when 
I saw Him there, His hands so rudely 
bound, His head bowed down, His face 
so meek, I yearned to throw myself 
before His feet, that I might share His 
mockery ; for they were mocking Him 
with jeer and oath profane. They call- 
ed Him traitor to the Jews, the prophet 
false, the leader of sedition. He an- 
swered not a word. The Lamb of God 
indeed was dumb. I could not see His 



GETHSEMANI. 219 

blessed face, His head was so bent down ; 
His eyes seemed closed. To the laugh- 
ter, to the curse, no answer came. I 
tried to speak for Him. The words 
rushed even to my lips : " Jesus, Master, 
let me plead for Thee." The power of 
speech was gone ; the thought of words 
alone remained. Suddenly I heard a 
loud and furious cry. "Bind Him fast 
and drag Him out ! " I heard them shout. 
The ropes were tightened in their cruel 
haste. # I saw Him pant for breath. I 
knew that He could scarcely stand. I 
heard Him fall, and then I saw them 
beat Him with their staves, and pull 
Him up, and rudely drag Him on. 
Oh ! what evil hath He done ? Where, 
ye ruffians vile-, where will ye drag Him 
now? I know not how I lived. It was 
not I ! Some power unseen was moving 
me, as like one dead I travelled on. I 
seemed to see His sad and tearful face, 
and yet I did not see. I seemed to 



220 GETHSEMANI. 

touch the ropes that dragged Him on, 
as if I were bound. And yet there 
were no ropes around my hands or feet. 
And yet I was not free. O blessed 
bonds ! if I am bound with Thee, Thou 
Lover of my soul ! I care not where 
they force my steps, if I may go with 
Thee ! I could not tell the way. My 
mind has failed. Was I in prayer for 
my Beloved, or had I lost the faculty of 
thought? What is this wondrous scene 
before me now? It is a palace vast. 
There are the seats of judgment all ar- 
ranged ; the great high-priest is sitting 
here, and all the glory of the Aaronic 
line appears in state. My heart is sink- 
ing at the sight, as I behold my Master 
standing there alone. No friend is near. 
He is looking down. He will not raise 
His eyes. He will not speak. There is 
the clamor of an angry crowd. I could 
not hear their words. I saw the form of 
Caiaphas as he arose and seemed to ques- 



OETHSEMANI. 221 

tion Him. Is this the last of that grand 
priestly line ? thought I. The glories of 
the Aaronic ministry, are they to end 
in this sad scene 'j Oh ! how I yearned to 
stand beside my Master then, to be His 
advocate and plead for Him ! O ye be- 
nighted priests ! do ye not know that 
He who is arraigned before you is th^ 
Son of God, the Virgin's Child of pro- 
phecy, the Christ so long foretold? 
And then I thought I saw the olden 
times, the blazing mountain in the wil- 
derness, the tabernacle filled with hea- 
venly lights the temple with its glories 
from on high, the golden mercy-seat 
where dwelt the cloud of fire. And as 
I looked, before me passed the long 
procession of the Levite race, and 
Aaron, robed in sacerdotal vestments, led 
the train, "Farewell to all the mighty 
past," he cried. "This is our dying day. 
Before us stands the Eternal Priest ; 
the types shall vanish in His light 



222 GETHSEMAM. 

Yet oh ! the curse that falls upon our 
race when consecrated hands shall bind 
the Lord of all, when consecrated lips 
shall sentence Him to death." And as 
before mine eyes this vision passed, I 
seemed to see the finger of the great 
high-priest, as, pointing to the form of 
my Beloved, he was gone. There came 
a mournful chant upon my ears : " This 
is the end. The top of Sinai bathed 
in light, the mountain flaming with 
the lightning's flash, is here trans- 
formed. The lamb no more shall 
bleed upon the mercy-seat ; the veil 
that hides the face of God is rent in 
twain. The Lamb of God is here, con- 
demned to die ; with Calvary's fearful 
crime the glories of our priesthood 
end in blood." The vision passed; I 
looked upon my Master, as He stood 
accused, without a word in His de- 
fence. It was the last great council of 
the Jewish state, and Caiaphas arose 



GETHSEMANI. 223 

to speak the words of doom. In all 
the grandeur of his sacerdotal robes he 
bade the clamorous crowd be still : 
"No more of laugh and jeer. What 
say you of the Nazarene ? Think you 
that He is dumb, or that in pride He 
will not answer make to God's high- 
priest? I will adjure Him by the liv- 
ing God ! Art Thou the Christ by pro- 
phecy foretold, the great Jehovah's 
blessed Son?" Then, indeed, I saw 
the majesty divine like flame of fire en- 
kindling in the face of my Beloved. His 
precious features gleaming as the sun 
at noon, He raised His head in all the 
dignity of deity ; His form was lifted 
up as if He stood upon a cloud whose 
golden hue encompassed Him like glit- 
tering curtains of the morn. I trembled 
as I saw His so transfigured face, and 
all my love in highest adoration bowed 
before Him. Oh ! the Lamb is dumb no 
more. The Eternal Priest will speak. 



224 GETHSEMANI. 

The dying line of Aaron's race shall 
hear: "I am the Son of God. I am 
the Christ foretold, the Virgin's Child 
and Israel's King. Your fathers have 
expected Me. I am the Paschal Lamb. 
The priesthood now to cease in woe be- 
neath the wrath of Heaven has told of 
Me in every sacred rite, in every vic- 
tim's blood, in every sacrificial prayer. 
The altar speaks of Me ; the temple's 
majesty is but the type of My hu- 
manity. I am your David' s root ; I am 
the bright and morning star. Before 
the patriarchal day I am. I am the 
victim now. The Lamb of God is led 
to slaughter by His own will. Fulfil 
your doom. Condemn your God to 
death. Behold Me standing here upon 
the cloud. My hands are bound, My 
feet are tied. There are none to plead 
My cause. Look well upon the Naza- 
rene, your King. The great Jehovah 
of your fathers stands before your bar. 



GETHSEMANI. 225 

The hour shall come. The cloud that 
gathers as a throne beneath His mangled 
feet shall rise, and span the heavens 
with flame. The dead, awaking from 
their graves, shall march in fear before 
His seat. The earth itself shall quake, 
the rocks of ages melt, the elements 
consume in fire. The armies of the 
Lord in burning ranks shall kneel be- 
fore His feet. The voice of the Eternal 
Father shall proclaim Him King. The 
Lamb so lowly now shall bid the song 
begin: "Lift up, ye everlasting gates! 
The Prince of glory comes. Behold 
Him sitting on the throne. Adore His 
face, ye Cherubim and Seraphim. Wel- 
come to the seat of power ; welcome to 
His endless reign." 

O my Jesus ! how I blessed Thee for 
this word, for the glory that encom- 
passed Thee in this sad hour. I 
thought I felt the angels come and 
kneel before Thee. Mine eyes were 



226 GETHSEMAKI. 

with the vision blest. I seemed to see 
the saints of ancient days, prophets, 
priests, and kings, as in this judgment- 
hall they crowded round Thee. My 
heart was full of love and pride. My 
Master dear, my God, my King, was 
taking to Himself the robes of glory. 
Was the Prisoner divine indeed set 
free \ Oh ! let me see ! Where has my 
vision gone % Does He ascend from 
sorrow now ? Are the heavens parting 
to receive Him with His train ? Shall I 
be with my Love when the golden 
doors shall open to the music of His 
voice % Oh ! I will see. I will mark 
Him well. The cruel ropes, are they 
upon Him still ? 

I strained my eyes. A cloud had 
blinded me. I could only hear. What 
tones are these that come to vibrate on 
the void which He had filled? It 
sounds like herald's cry in notes of 
doom. It was the great high-priest 



GETHSEMANI. 227 

who spoke, the council in its state 
around Him. So awful were the words 
I seemed to hear, that reason trembled 
fearfully as if possessed of horrid 
dreams, or by the spectres of the night 
bewildered. They called my God blas- 
phemer, and on every side arose the 
angry shout, "He shall die; the N~aza- 
rene shall die ! " Surely these are not 
the tones of men alone, not the sen- 
tence of the priests. I hear the un- 
earthly howl of demons, as amid an 
awful chorus the refrain comes back : 
"The Nazarene blasphemes! He shall 
die! He shall die!" 

Where was my blessed Master now 
while thus the jeers of earth and hell 
surrounded Him ? At first I could not 
see ; and then when prayer was strong, 
and love like fire was burning up my 
heart, the vision came. He was bend- 
ing down beneath their blows. Like 
ravenous beasts they rushed, they 



228 GETHSEMANX. 

caught Him by the ropes that held 
Him, dragged Him down and fell upon 
Him. I heard the sound that rent my 
heart as with their hands they beat 
His precious face. The priests went 
out and left Him to the fury of the 
ruffian crowd. It was now the noon 
of night, and so they mocked Him till 
the dawn. I heard their voices coarse 
call Him blasphemer. I heard the 
laugh when in derision loud they 
called Him prophet and saluted Him 
as King. I saw them one by one with 
language vile draw near and spit upon 
Him ! Where was I then to see a sight 
like this and live? That precious face 
so dear to me, the sunlight of my 
soul, was with their spittle, mixed with 
mire, defiled. His cheeks were swoll- 
en with the bruise ; His eyes were 
nearly closed. He could not raise His 
hands to wipe away the tears, to 
stanch the blood, for they were bound. 



GETHSEMAffL 229 

my clearest Love ! I prayed, let me 
draw near with all the tenderness which 

1 have learned from Thee ! I ]ove Thy 
face above the power of words to tell. 
Can I see it thus disfigured with the 
scorn of men ? Oh ! I am now like 
Thee: I am dumb; I cannot speak; 
but let me come, and Thy poor weep- 
ing child will bless Thee in eternity. 
Oh! if I colli d dare to kiss away the 
spittle and the mire! Oh! give 'me, 
Lord, the treasure of one tear ! They 
must not touch the face divine ; they 
shall not mock my God, O ray Mas- 
tor! give me strength, and I will come. 

His arms, so firmly bound, were strong 
enough to hold me back, He did not 
open once His mouth. There was not 
a word to hear, but blows were fall- 
ing fast, and falling on my heart as 
they smote Him. 

There was a voice within my soul 
that ruled my every sense. My Love 



230 GETIISEMANI. 

divine needs not the use of words. 
"My precious child," He said, " be- 
ware ! This is the demons' hour. I am 
their sport. They are mocking Me be- 
cause I bear the sinner's part. You see 
they hurt Me with their staves, tear 
Me with their thongs, bruise Me with 
their hands. I feel as God alone can 
feel the outrage to My face. Their 
spittle rests within Mine eyes, runs 
down upon My mouth. Who now 
would recognize this face of Mary's 
Child ? My tears are freely shed. I 
cannot keep them back, for oh ! My 
agonizing heart is taking up a sorrow 
new. There is a pang that stings Me 
now and quite overwhelms Me. I must 
bid the angels come unseen to hold 
Me up a little, lest I fall. Think you 
it is this mockery which thus unnerves 
My strength, this scorn which opens 
up the fountain of My tears ? Oh ! 
no. I bear full well these jeers that 



GETHSEMANI. 231 

come from foes. The wounds within 
My hands, they ache the most. My 
friend, My great apostle, leader of My 
little band, hath thrice denied Me, 
hath denied Me with an oath. I heard 
that oath above the curses of this 
angry crowd, and it hath struck My 
heart. I can hear no other sound. 
The awfal words are ringing in My 
ears. I cannot shut them out: 'I 
know Him not ; I am not His ; I have 
never been with Him ; I know Him 
not.' 

•' I saw how demons dire surround- 
ed him in conflict fearful to his 
soul. He could have died for Me ; but 
when I sheathed his sword and tried 
his tender heart, the light of hope 
gave out and courage failed. He is re- 
penting now ; but yet the words are 
spoken. His Master, bound, despised, 
and mocked, arraigned before the coun- 
cil of the state, condemned to death, 



232 GETHSEMANI. 

lie hath denied. Oh! the agony of 
this sad fall ; it hurts My love, it 
makes My heart to bleed, Its bitter- 
ness is crushing him. Remorse like 
angry clouds is shutting out the rays 
of heaven. The hosts of hell are bid- 
ding him despair. I will help him 
with My pity sweet. I am sending 
graces strong to hold him up. The 
flood of light from out My sorrowing 
soul is drawing near to cheer his peni- 
tence. I will take the gloom and send 
him peace. Go, angels bright who 
wait My will, on whom I lean amid 
these awful mockeries — go bind his 
wounds, go lead him here. Let Me 
look with My divine affection ; let Me 
heal the sorrow which My tears alone 
can cure. I will show to him My face. 
The lines of grief are there. They can- 
not fade away so soon. But in My 
weeping eyes he shall behold a pardon 
full, a mighty love he never saw before. 



GETHSEMANI. 233 

He shall see how I forgive ; I take 
him closer to My breast, and for his 
fearful fall he shall the stronger, 
dearer be. Look ! there he conies. See 
how changed he is. He hath grown 
old within one night. He walks with 
trembling steps, as if he feared to 
come. He little knows My angels hold 
him up. His form is bent. He cannot 
raise his head. His tears like torrents 
flow. He cannot speak. How could 
he speak above the din of jeer, and 
oath, and blows? His heart is full of 
prayer, and I, his God, can hear ! See, 
he tries to kneel ; the angels raise him 
up. Slowly, fearfully his head is turn- 
ed to Me. I am thus helping him to 
lift his swollen eyes and look on Me. 
See now the anguish of that face, the 
deep remorse, the promise of fidelity, 
of constancy to death." 

My Master looked on him ! O sweet- 
est spirits of the heavenly court ! let 



234 GETHSEMANI. 

your sympathy divine surround my 
blessed Love, to praise Him where T 
fail, for such a look as that ! Be- 
neath the blows He stood, the mire 
and spittle on His face, with form so 
crushed, as if His heart was welling 
tears. There came a look so full of 
tenderness, that depths of mercy infi- 
nite revealed the majesty of God ; that 
gentleness like gems of uncreated light 
was sitting on His royal brow ; and on 
His precious mouth there spoke the 
pity of a soul divine. Who could with- 
stand that look ? O my Jesus dear ! 
how can I thank Thee that I saw Thee 
then % I had often watched Thy bless- 
ed face. I have followed Thee in sor- 
rows drear. I have seen Thee in Thy 
woes ; and every time I looked on 
Thee the mighty power of Thine at- 
tractions hath revealed some treasure 
new of Thine untold grace. I had 
often prayed that I might only look, 



GETHSEMANI. 235 

and never even speak, How can I 
speak when I am lifting up my eyes 
to Thee ! Yet now I see upon Thy 
bruised and mangled face, so sad and 
yet so full of sweet compassion, the 
pardon Grod alone can give. O gentle 
Shepherd ! how I love Thee now ! 
Thou dost find a joy to seek Thy wan- 
dering flock. Thou dost not mind the 
aching of Thy wounds, the bleeding of 
Thy hands and feet and shoulders bare. 
Thou art leading home the pastor of 
the sheep. That strong and earnest 
soul shall faint no more. Let one like 
me, the price of Thine indulgent love, 
kneel here and pray and weep. Oh ! 
well I know that tender look was not 
alone for Thine apostle in his fall. It 
was for me ! He did deny Thee once. 
I have denied Thee many times. In 
the face of danger, when all earth and 
heaven arrayed themselves against his 
Lord, his courage failed. I, poor way- 



236 GETHSEMANI. 

ward child, have turned from Thee for 
things of sense. No foe was near. No 
danger frightened me. I did forget 
that Thou wast mine, and in deed, if not 
in word, I said, U I know Thee not." 
With those who crucified my God I 
walked. Sometimes there was a god 
of gold, sometimes a sensual god ; 
sometimes I bowed my heart, espoused 
to Thee, to pride. Sometimes Thy ten- 
der hands were holding me, and I have 
wrestled with Thy grace that I might 
break away from Thee and Thy re- 
straints. Now, in bitterness of deep re- 
morse, I kneel before Thee, O my Mas- 
ter dear ! I never knew till now the 
depth of my inconstancy. With Thine 
npostle, so convulsed with grief, let me 
bow down. I have seen Thy pardon- 
ing face. It ha th moved me, too. Thou 
hast touched the spring that in the 
time to come shall never cease to flow. 
The fountain of repenting tears is open 



GETHSEMANI. 237 

now. Oh ! let me liide myself awhile. 
I cannot leave Thee here^ but I will 
hide from all but Tliee. Oh ! that the 
clouds that cover Thee could fall upon 
me now, and like a mantle drear con- 
ceal my weeping eyes from all but 
Thine ! With all my heart I bless 
Thee for this look ! The pastor of Thy 
flock, the vicar of Thy grace, shall be 
my guide. His tears shall intercede for 
mine. 

My Master heard my prayer. There 
came a cloud indeed and hid me in its 
folds. It was not the blackness of the 
sky. It was not the absence of the 
light. It was not a simple solitude 
where all created things had ceased to 
be. The waters of remorse engulfed my 
soul. I saw my sins as one by one 
they crushed me with their fearful 
weight. Each infidelity of all my life ; 
each act or word wherein I had denied 
the heavenly Bridegroom dear to whom 



238 GETHSEMANI. 

I pliglited all my heart ; each coldness 
to His yearning grace, all came be- 
fore me now. I saw them in my Mas- 
ter's face. I read them in His tears. 
They then awoke to voice and spoke 
to me in sighs, the sobs of my afflicted 
Lord. Deeper, deeper grew the gloom. 
Down, down the opening chasm did I 
fall. And yet the light of hope was 
burning in my soul; for, as senses fail- 
ed and sight was gone, I saw that 
look of mercy sad, of that compassion 
infinite. 

How long this cloud was covering 
me I cannot tell. It seemed an age, 
as if the countless years had travelled 
on their march while I lay weeping, 
hidden in the depths, conscious only 
of my sin and my unworthiness of 
Him. When I awoke the night had 
passed. Where am I now ? I cried. Is 
this the light of da^y ? I thought that 
day had ceased to be. Oh ! tell me, is 



GETHSEMANI. 239 

it day \ And if this be day, how is it 
measured by the stars ! Oh ! did the 
sun arise? I thought the sun had died. 
And if this be light, oh ! tell me where 
I am ; where is my Master now % Stop ! 
I do begin to see ! Hark ! I seem to 
hear. Oh ! am I coming back to life ? 
Then tell me what is life ? 

What sounds are these I hear? What 
are these palace walls ? Surely this is 
not the council- chamber of the Jews ! 
I cannot bring to life my senses dim. 
These halls are strange to me. How 
came I here % I did not know that I 
had moved. And now again upon my 
ears resounds the clamor of a crowd. I 
feel my Blessed Lord is here. Hark ! 
I hear His precious name. And voices 
coarse accusing Him of blasphemy de- 
mand His death. An awful shout with 
angry oaths comes up like frantic rage 
of demons in the flames of hell: "Let 
Him be crucified ! Away with David's 



240 GETHSEMANI. 

Son ! Let Jesus die, like one accursed, 
upon the cross ! " 

This fearful cry awoke my wonder- 
ing mind. My sight returned. Surely 
these are Roman soldiers standing on 
their guard. I see the conquering eagle 
gleam above their ranks. They form 
in close array around a throne where 
sits in solemn pomp the representa- 
tive of Ceesar's power. The captive 
race, the pride of God's elect, bows 
down to pagan sway. Jerusalem, in 
bondage vile, demands the crucifixion 
of its King. How came I here in 
Pilate's court? How was my Beloved 
dragged from cruel mockery, from 
blows and scorn, to this dread scene % 
Oh! is His death so near? He told 
me of His cross, and yet my sluggish, 
loving heart could never follow Him. 
Alas! the end is nigh. I must see 
Him once again. O angels ! lift me up 
above the crowd, above this failing 



GETHSEMAKI. 241 

sight, that yet again my eyes may 
rest on Him, my Master and my God, 
my only Love ! I know not how it 
was. I am as bjind as those that never 
saw. I am as dumb as those that 
never spoke. The darkness passed. 
There came a ray of light, and in its 
beams I saw the form majestic of my 
Lord. I saw again His blessed face. 
He stood in bonds before the judg- 
ment throne. The Judge of quick and 
dead is on His trial now. His eyes 
were looking up as if to scenes beyond 
the earth. There was a sadness dark 
as night upon His brow, while peace 
that seemed the eternal calm of God 
was reigning there. O Master dear ! 
indeed I kneel before you now. Your 
loving child is at your feet. He can- 
not speak. He scarcely lives. He is 
all for Thee. What happened then I 
do not know. I thought I kissed His 
precious feet, until the tears had told 



242 GETHSEMAKI. 

Him of my new-born love. How can 
this happiness be mine? I cried. I 
here have found my home. Nor earth 
nor heaven can tear me from my Mas- 
ter's feet. I was so happy then, al- 
though my heart was panting with its 
grief. Precious, precious feet, my hands 
shall hold you fast for ever ! 

Suddenly I heard another voice, when 
Pilate rose. " Ye stubborn race of 
Jews, why seek you this man's life? 
I see no cause of death. I hear your 
angry cries. Your witnesses are false. 
You free the murderer vile. You ask 
the pardon of the lowest criminal on 
this your festal day. Like raging 
beasts you cry against the Nazarene. 
You are thirsting for His blood. You 
shall satiate your thirst. Here, guards, 
go take Him to the pillar in the court. 
There bind Him fast. Let Him be 
scourged. Mind not the Roman law ; 
He is a Jew. He seems scarcely living 



GETHSEMANI. 243 

now. If He survive this loss of blood, 
this deathlike pain, you cannot ask 
that He be crucified." 

These awful words aroused me from 
my dear repose. I seemed to hold His 
precious feet, now moistened by my 
tears ; and when I touched them with 
my lips some mighty strength renewed 
the courage of my love. The words 
of Pilate were a knell to me. I strug- 
gled hard to hold the feet that now 
were dearer to my heart than life itself. 
I was foolish then. I little knew how 
weak I was. Oh ! cried I, take me ! 
Take me in my Master's place. I will 
bleed or die for Him ; let me be scourg- 
ed. My precious Jesus, may Thy lov- 
ing child do this for Thee? 

I heard no word as from the blessed 
feet I sought His face. There was a 
look that spoke a fall response. It 
was not reproach. It was not surprise. 
It seemed to say: "You know not 



244 GETHSEMANI. 

what you ask. You could not bear 
one blow, unless the scourge should 
first fall heavily on Me. Did I bring 
you once from deserts wild, a wander- 
ing sheep ? Where is the pasture of 
My flock, the home within My heart, 
unless these shoulders bleed? How 
often have the senses led you into sin, 
and vanities of earth beguiled you from 
My arms ! These sins are laid upon 
my shoulders bare. The scourge alone 
can draw the blood that washes them 
away. Oh ! let Me go, My child ; you 
cannot hold Me now. Unloose My 
feet. I go to be baptized indeed for 
you." 

The ruffians rushed like maddened 
beasts of prey. They tore me from my 
Lord. With cruel violence they drag- 
ged Him out. Within the hall and in 
the courts their shout resounds: "Un- 
to the scourge, the JNazarene ! Yet slay 
Him not. Go tear Him with the thongs 



GETHSEMAKI. 245 

and let Him freely bleed, but spare 
Him for the cross. With criminals 
among the skulls, there let Him die!" 

The scene that passed before me 
then no tongue of mine can tell. I 
know not how I lived, and yet I did 
not live. I thought I died, and yet it 
was not death. There was no judgment 
scene. The face of the celestial King 
was hid. There were no angels there. 
I did not even feel the spirits of the 
air. I can only try to speak, and yet 
the words are strange to me, as if some 
other lips than mine were speaking 
them. Oh ! give me aid, ye angels that 
have voice ! Oh ! help my nothingness, 
Thou Spirit all-creating, Thou that giv- 
est beauty to the void, and form to 
shapeless chaos ! 

Oh ! what did I behold ? There w r as 
a pillar there within the open court. 
They dragged my Master there. They 
stripped Him of His robe. His blessed 



246 GJETHSEMANI. 

arms they rudely strained, and bound 
them far above His head. And when I 
saw His shoulders bare, His back ex- 
posed before the angry crowd, His vir- 
gin flesh for sinful eyes to look upon, 
for sinful hands to touch, my life seem- 
ed sinking far away, my heart refused 
to beat. "O my Jesus!" did I sob. 
"This sight is far too much for me. 
Thy poor and feeble child will die. He 
is not living now." And then there 
came a love within my soul that seem- 
ed to take the place of life. It was 
only love. It was not I. This is the 
flesh of my Beloved ! This is the food 
of virgin hearts. This is the bread by 
which the pure shall live. 

Then, while my heart exulted in the 
thought that this dear flesh of Mary's 
Child was mine, and heaven's wide 
windows opened to my longing gaze, 
where virgins walked in raiment white 
with lilies crowned, I saw the ruflian 



GETHSEMANI. 247 

arms uplifted to their utmost strength, 
and heard the blows which fell with 
leaden weight. They ploughed great 
seams upon His back ; they tore His 
flesh with thongs that bared the bone* 
His mangled shoulders were like many 
cruel wounds, one sightless mass of 
curdling blood. He bent beneath the 
fearful pain. I could not see His face. 
His head was bowed. T saw Him trem- 
ble as His hands held fast the ropes, 
and fierce convulsions, like the strug- 
gles dire of death with manhood's 
strength, were shaking all His frame, 
until his tottering limbs gave way. I 
saw Him turn as white as is the icy 
coldness of the dead, and then as red 
as blood which streamed with feverish 
heat from bruised and mangled veins. 
I know not how I looked. Some 
mighty power then held me there and 
forced my eyes ; I could not turn away. 
So, like the corpse that cannot move, 



248 GETHSEMAjSTI. 

whose glassy eyes are fixed and seem 
to stare on vacancy, my sightless orbs 
were hanging on the scene. Was I 
fainting, dying there ? Oh ! it was far 
more. Did I see or did I feel ? I know 
my Master fell ; I heard a groan. I 
saw His bleeding back, His face as 
white as death, and then I knew no 
more. There came an awful sickness 
at my heart, where every pulse was 
still and sight and sense were gone. I 
was falling, falling as in endless depths. 
Would there never come a pause? 
Must I sink eternally ? And then when 
ages seemed to pass and I was sinking 
still, my feet were resting on some solid 
base, and I was running, running on, 
so wearied I could scarcely stand, and 
yet I ran. Some power unseen was 
driving me with limbs exhausted and 
with panting breath. Oh ! can I 
never stop ? I cried. Then afar, where 
distance seemed impassable, the bleed- 



GETHSEMANI. 249 

ing form of my Beloved ran before 
me. The pillar moved as fast as 
He. The mangled shoulders shone 
like light. I was travelling in the 
might no force of mine could disobey, 
and still so far before me moved the 
deathlike face. I was losing step by 
step my strength. At last I sobbed : 
"O my Jesus, loving, bleeding Master! 
do not fly from me ! Oh ! let me come. 
I am dying now. I must not die away 
from Thee." And then I fell indeed. 
It was not sleep ; it was not death. 
One sense alone remained ; and was it 
sight? For, burning in my brain like 
fire that melts the metals in their 
strength, there was the pillar and the 
scourge, the gashed and mangled back, 
the trembling frame, the swollen eyes 
of my Beloved. 

Then, if I had thought, the thought 
was prayer. I called my Master by His 
dearest names. I wrestled with my- 



250 GETHSEMANI. 

self that I might speak. There was no 
voice while love was in my heart like 
flame, a love that sought the pinioned 
arms, that nestled in the point of thong 
and scourge, and rested on the naked 
breast. 

Before me ran the precious blood. 
It was the stream of life. Is this the 
heaven where crystal waters glide, where 
sparkling waves like gems reflect the un- 
created light ? Oh ! no, this cannot be, 
for here is pain, and here is grief, and 
here the shadow of the cross ! Yet rest 
awhile and bathe within this stream, 
and thou shalt see how every shadow 
falls, how every stain is washed away, 
how white and pure thy hands and 
heart shall be. And then it seemed that 
I was not alone. I woke to sounds so 
soft and sweet that fear was passing 
from my soul, and joy was coming with 
my tears. How can I smile ? I cried ; how 
can my heart be glad amid these awful 



GETHSEMANX. 251 

scenes ? Where, oh ! where is my Belov- 
ed gone ? I cannot see Him now. The 
pillar and the scourge are vanished, too. 
If you are angels come to guide my sor- 
rowing steps, then lead me after Him. 
I must be sad ; I cannot now- rejoice ! 
Then came a strain of song celestial from 
unearthly harps— a song so full of sad- 
ness sweet, and yet so mighty in its 
power, that I was borne along upon its 
gentle tide, and peace like that of heaven 
was sinking in my troubled heart. Surely 
these are messengers of light. They are 
the angels of the King. How came they 
here within these caverns drear ? What 
canticles of grace are sounding now? 
There passed before my eyes a vi- 
sion blest of saints in glad array with 
glittering crowns and raiment white. 
They were marching on and moving to 
the song. There were virgins then 
with lilies pure upon their heads. 
There were martyrs wearing crimson 



252 GETHSEMANI. 

robes and bearing in their hands the 
palm. And pontiffs led the priestly 
train, as on their ranks the cross was 
shining like a golden snn. The long 
procession moved before me like the. pa- 
geant of a prince upon his coronation 
day. I heard the words of their celes- 
tial song, as spirits leading on were fill- 
ing all the air with melody. "Come 
virgins pure, come spouses of the Lamb, 
come to the crowning of the King. Lift 
up the notes of minstrelsy divine. Sing, 
Cherubim and Seraphim, before the 
throne." 

And I was moving on with them. 
My feeble tongue, unloosed, was join- 
ing in the strain ; and rapture like the 
ecstasy of heaven was stealing o'er my 
powers. How can I chant this Avon- 
drous song 1 How can my lips awake 
the notes of joy ? Where is my bleed- 
ing King ? where is the pillar now ? 
where is the throne ? Oh ! where shall 



GETHSEMANI. 253 

He be crowned on this His dying day? 
And yet my voice went on, as if an 
angel touched my mouth and words un- 
bidden came: "Come virgins pure, 
come spouses of the Lamb, come to the 
crowning of the King/' 

Was this the vision which my pre- 
cious Master gave my fainting soul to 
cheer me in my sorrowing way % Oh ! did 
His mercy open then mine eyes that I 
might see, and by the sight be strength- 
ened when the deeper darkness fell I 
I only know that suddenly the awful 
transformation came. The light went 
out ; the music ceased ; the angels 
passed away ; the virgin train was gone. 
And I was standing all alone. And 
then instead of heavenly harps I heard 
the clash of arms, the jeers of human 
voices coarse. " Behold the King," they 
cried. "Come bow before Him here. 
The JSazarene is sitting here in regal 
state. Behold the purple robe he wears, 



GETHSEMANI. 

the sceptre in his hand, the crown upon 
His head. This is the royal prince of 
David's line." And then foul curses 
rent the air with laughing mockery. 
How came I here ? The spirits pure 
were guiding me. Is this the throne 
oi Mary's Child and Q-od's eternal Son? 
Is this the coronation-day the angels' 
songs were telling of when I was mov- 
ing to the tune of their celestial strains ? 
O my Master dear ! lift up my face 
and let me look on Thee. If this be 
really Thou, my God, my All, why 
cease the seraphs' notes, and where are 
gone the spouses of the Prince, the glo- 
ries of Thy virgin train? Why is this 
Thy feeble child alone amid the ribald 
jests and oaths of blasphemy ? He gave 
me strength to raise mine eyes, where 
once again I saw His blessed face. He 
even looked at me and smiled. I saw 
him sitting on a bag of straw. There 
was a worn and tattered purple rag 



GETHSEMANI. 255 

around his shoulders bruised and bare. 
In His right hand He held a reed. Up- 
on His royal head there was a crown 
of thorns. The thorns were sharp and 
long. I saw the soldiers strike it with 
their spears. I saw the look of pain 
that forced the blood from every point. 
I saw the swollen eyes from which the 
tears ran down. I saw Him tremble as 
the anguish grew with every blow. 
"Oh! indeed," cried I, " this is the 
crowning of the King. He is the King 
of heaven and all the earth ; He is the 
Master of my soul. But oh ! is this His 
coronation-day? And is He thus ar- 
rayed, the heavenly purple torn aside, 
the reed of straw the sceptre of the 
eternal Son, the only crown a diadem 
of thorns? O my Prince ! is this the 
crown Thy children give ? Is this the 
throne prepared for Thee on earth V* 
And then my love went up to Him 
with prayer, with all the incense of 



256 GETHSEMANI. 

my heart. "O my Jesus !" sighed my 
soul, "if this indeed be now Thy coro- 
nation-hour, if this Thy chosen regal 
state, then bid the angels come again, 
and tune my voice that I may sing Thy 
praise." 

Alas ! the heavenly harps were still. 
There was no response. I know not 
how I drew so near, but I was kneel- 
ing at His feet. "Dear, precious feet," 
I sighed, "now you are mine again. 
My Master, how I love Thee, how I 
worship Thee with all the powers of 
thought or soul ! Rule my every facul- 
ty and be in truth my King ! Reign 
for ever, Prince of peace, and in the 
glory of Thy kingdom come!" 

Alas ! my peace was short ; the bliss 
of touching Him soon passed, and I 
was rudely torn away. The ruffians came 
once more to beat Him with their 
hands, to spit upon His swollen face, 
to press the agonizing crown upon His 



GETHSEMANI. 257 

temples gashed and raw, to mock His 
tears, to strike Him with His reed of 
straw. 

Then how I prayed, while deadly 
faintness came, and all my sight was 
gone. There was no sense, yet fast 
within my brain in lines of fire I felt 
the picture of my thorn-crowned King. 
"O Master dear! I die to all but 
Thee. Canst Thou speak to me again 
before they drag Thee to Thy cross! 
This is, I know, the day of Thine espou- 
sals pure. For virgin souls the hea- 
venly Bridegroom comes. For them He 
wears the crown upon His head divine. 
For them it is a crown that bleeds. I 
can hardly live, I love Thee so. The 
springs of life are nearly quenched to 
see Thee in the pain the nuptial gar- 
ment brings. From every piercing point 
there is a drop of blood for me. Why 
dost Thou tremble so, my blessed One 1 
Too heavy is the burden Thou art 



258 GETHSEMAIST. 

bearing now ! Oil ! do not faint again. 
Thy loving child is near to death. If 
Thou dost fall upon Thy throne, then 
he will die indeed!" 

My spirit seemed to pass away from 
earth, but not from Him. He was near 
me all the while, and soon when shadowy 
forms were crowding round, and faces 
of the dead were staring full on me, I 
heard His voice. It was weak — alas ! 
how weak — and yet, like whisper faint, 
it roused my every sense. O the pre- 
cious hour ! I cannot lose a word. 
This is the message from my King. It 
is His coronation-day : 

" My child, thy Bridegroom is indeed 
a King. The diadems of heaven by 
right are His. Where Cherubim and 
Seraphim are bowing down, beyond the 
sea of glass, He sits upon the eternal 
throne. Yet hath He taken thy hu- 
manity for love of thee, that He may 
reign as man and make His loving 



GhETHSEMANI. 259 

heart the centre of His sway. So must 
He lead the souls He seeks to purify 
where earth shall lose its charms, where 
pride shall die. There is no earthly 
crown that He could wear upon His 
head divine. The gems the world 
adores reflect alone created light. 
What is that light to Him who is the 
brightness of the Father's face, who is 
the sun of the celestial sphere? He 
cometh to atone for sin, to pay the 
debt for all the fallen race, to wash 
with blood the stains no fount but that 
which springeth from His veins could 
cleanse. The children born of Him must 
crown Him with their hands, and He 
must bleed from every thorn, that all 
their sins of thought and foolish pride 
may rest upon His royal head, that in 
His anguish fierce all human love may 
die, and all the springs of thought and 
will be purified. 

" Behold Me, then, a thorn-crowned 



260 GETHSEMANl. 

King. I rule by pain. I suffer for the 
pride of those I love. It is a struggle 
long, a battle dire to conquer each re- 
bellious foe, that those who choose Me 
for their spouse may thus be truly one 
with Me in heart and will ; that all 
self-love shall cease ; that they may 
have no thought but Mine. I am their 
King ; they call Me Master dear, but 
every moment they are pressing thorns 
upon My brow. Sometimes they glory 
in My gifts as if their own ; sometimes 
they seek to lead me in their ways ; 
sometimes refuse to follow patiently My 
steps ; sometimes they pride themselves 
upon the pledges of My heart, the ring 
I put upon their hand, the cross they 
yrear upon their breast. And then, for- 
getful of the jealous God whose eyes 
are open everywhere, they offer incense 
to self-will, and blindly turn away in 
paths unblest and wander far from Me. 
The love of creatures they have cruci- 



GETHSEMANI. 261 

fled, while love of self is poisoning all 
their life. They enter on the way of 
saints, but cannot die to live, or sink 
to nothingness that thus, indeed, their 
heavenly Spouse may reign alone. And 
so they press the sharpened points up- 
on My head, and I must feel the hurt 
which breaks My heart. They cannot 
love Me for Myself, or they forget that 
I am God, whose wisdom hath no bounds, 
who could not fail to guide aright His 
chosen souls. I cannot lead them to the 
pastures of My choice ; I cannot fold 
them to My breast ; I cannot kiss them 
with My lips. They only touch the 
thorns. They wound themselves and 
Me. I am wrestling with them all their 
lives. They are ever hurting Me, ever 
pressing down My crow^n of pain. I can- 
not purify their thoughts. I cannot kill 
desires, cannot make them all My 
own. 

" Could I tell you, My loving child ! 



262 GETHSEMA1ST. 

how glad I am to wear this crown ? It 
is the secret of My sway o'er hearts 
that bleed. It is the sign of heavenly 
life where nature dies. And yet the 
pain is known to God alone. Did ever 
bridegroom struggle with his bride, or 
lover with the loved, as I must wrestle 
with the chosen souls who call Me 
Spouse ? The pride of all the earth, the 
root of every sin, every rent of this My 
seamless robe, every wound upon My 
body mystical, are thorns within My 
crown. Oh ! how My temples ache ; 
oh ! how the brain is burning as with 
thousand fires ; oh ! the agony untold 
of this My coronation- day. And yet 
the thorns that hurt Me most are those 
that come from loving hands, from those 
who call Me Bridegroom dear, from 
those who seek to honor Me. I ask 
their hearts, their souls, their minds, 
their strength. They cannot even see 
how every thought of infidelity is hurt- 



GETHSEMANI. 263 

ing Me. I want them at My side ; I 
want them on My breast ; I yearn to 
clasp them closely with Mine arms, that 
they may look on Me, and I may let 
them see, indeed, the face of their Be- 
loved in all His winning charms. They 
will not come. They stand afar. They 
seem afraid to touch My hand. I know 
it bleeds, but bleeding is the sign of 
love. Ah ! no ; I must endure this 
pain. Oh ! let the thorns go down. It 
will ease My heart to suffer all the 
sharpest pangs for them. When they 
have wounded Me enough, then they 
may learn the tenderness of their Be- 
loved, and they may feel what might 
have been the fondness of My sweet 
caress, if they had not repulsed Me 
with a cold neglect. Who are they that 
never touched My crown, who never 
gave Me pain ? Their names are written 
here within My heart. They shall walk 
with Me in white. They have passed 



264 GETHSEMAKI. 

before Me in the glittering train. With 
angels they have come to chant their 
coronation- song. They are the children 
of the Queen, the spotless Mother of 
her God. To her I owe this bright ar- 
ray, for she hath taught to virgin souls 
how Mary's child can love. 

" And now you hear the blessed name 
of the Immaculate. Go meet her as she 
comes. Go pray to her for grace to 
know the riches of the heart that 
calleth you from every earthly tie. Go 
kneel where she shall kneel. Go look 
upon her blessed face and put your 
hands in hers. Then let Me rest awhile 
upon this throne of straw, here gather 
up My strength that I may tread the 
weary road, that I may take My cross 
and bear it to the hill of sacrifice. I 
see the painful path, the cleft within 
the rock, the mouldering skulls, the 
open grave." 

When thus my Master spoke I shud- 



GETHSEMANI. 265 

dered at the words, while faintness 
seized upon my heart. I bowed my 
face upon the earth, and prayed for- 
grace to feel the thorns my wilful pride 
had pressed upon His head. If I might 
feel the pain, or even share the anguish 
I had brought on Him, it seemed I 
might repent, that I might love Him 
more, and never once again be base 
enough to wound Him so. Too well 
my daring prayer found answer on this 
dreadful day. The faintness I had felt 
grew like the agony of death. My 
pulses ceased, my limbs grew cold. 
Sharp pangs like thorns were piercing 
down my brain, and every point seemed 
like a tongue of fire. It was no earthly 
fire. I knew of pain that in its dire 
excess uplifts the reason from her seat 
and hangs the tortured frame upon the 
borderline of life. Yet this was more. 
My head seemed shut within a vise of 
iron heated hot, and then some mighty 



266 GETIISEMAKI. 

Land was forcing down the burning 
points. And with this awful agony 
there came a fear that seemed more 
direful than the thorns. Oh! had I 
grieved again my Master dear? Had 
Ipresumed to ask for pain? Was one 
like me so bold to come where angels 
are afraid ? Oh ! could I touch the 
footprints of my Love, or dare to put 
my hands upon His crown ? I could 
do much if He were there to hold me 
up ! If He, my strength, were gone 
one second from my sight, then surely 
I should faint and fall. And now where 
is my Love ? I see Him not. I cannot 
even feel. Here was the throne of straw, 
and here the King was crowned, and 
here He spoke to me ! And now the 
thorns are killing me, and I am left 
alone ! Alas ! some fearful dream is 
passing o'er my brain, and when I 
wake, my soul shall be aroused to sor- 
rows new. Is this, indeed, the day of 



GETHSEMANI. 267 

doom % Wliat makes me tremble so, 
and why am I so cold? The grave it- 
self can never be like this ! 

O Master dear, my King ! I cried. 
Show me Thy face once more. Oh! tell 
me, is Thy trial ended now? 

As suddenly as light the scene was 
changed. The palace- walls were once 
again before mine eyes. The crowd was 
surging round the court. Coarse voices 
shouted long and loud: " Let Him be 
crucified!" "Let Csesar's rival die! 
The Roman Csesar is our king. This 
is the Nazarene. Command Him to the 
cross. Upon the hill of skulls let Him be 
crucified." And then I raised my eyes, 
and there He stood upon the mighty 
portico of Pilate's hall. He stood be- 
fore the furious mob, before the priests 
in full array, before the soldiers with 
their spears, before the Roman gover- 
nor, who seemed to fear to speak. His 
hands were bound, the purple robe was 



268 GETHSEMANI. 

on His breast, the crown of thorns was 
on His head. His face was bowed, His 
eyes cast down. He seemed so weak 
that death was surely nigh. And yet 
the majesty of God was clothing Him 
as if with light from heaven. I heard 
the Roman say: " Behold the Man." 
" Behold your King." And then I 
heard again the angry clamor rise : 
"Great Caesar is our king." "Let Him, 
the Nazarene, be crucified." Then while 
I looked and loved, as I had never 
loved before, I seemed to catch the 
notes of some celestial song which, far 
above the sinful noise of earth, was 
sounding in the skies: " Indeed be- 
hold the Man, the Virgin's Child, the 
Word made flesh, the Adam of the new 
and living race. All worthy is the 
Lamb that dies. Upon His royal head 
be honor, wisdom, strength. To Him 
let every creature bow from heaven's 
eternal arch to earth's remotest bound. 



GETHSEMANT. 269 

To Him who sitteth on the throne be 
adoration paid. This is the Son of 
God. Sing, ye choirs of spirits blest ; 
come sing His everlasting reign." * These 
heavenly notes a moment cheered my 
drooping soul. The clouds that gather- 
ed round My Love in bonds, an instant 
broke in light, and rays of uncreated 
brilliancy were beaming on my Master's 
bowed but royal head. 

Yet soon the song had ceased, the 
light was gone, the cloud returned, the 
darkness grew apace. 

There was an awful moment then. 
The soldiers heard the voice of Pilate 
there, and stood with their uplifted 
spears. In trembling tones he spoke : 
" Behold the Nazarene. You ask His 
life. I see no cause why He should die. 
I hear your witnesses in vain. I know 
your accusations false. And yet you 
will not rest until you lead Him to a 

* Apocalypse v. 8-13. 



270 GETHSEMAISTI. 

shameful death. In Caesar's name you 
ask the cross. In Caesar's regal state, 
against my will, against the voice of 
right, o'erwhelmed with many fears, I 
grant your wish. His blood shall rest 
on you and all your guilty race. I 
shall pronounce the fearful doom that 
sinks the glory of your land, the com- 
ing of your endless night. I sentence 
unto death your King. Behold Him 
crowned with thorns. Go take Him to 
the cross and lead Him off to Golgotha. 
Between the malefactors let Him die. 
, Yet shall He wear in death the title 
of a prince, and from the cruel gibbet 
reign. Let the trumpets blow. Through- 
out the Soman's wide domain announce 
His doom." 

There was an instant's pause. My 
heart was sinking in the depths of 
fear and grief and shame, and every 
struggling breath was love or prayer. 
The soldiers seized my precious Lord ; 



GETHSEMANI. 271 

with, hands so rude they tore the pur- 
ple robe away. They threw the reed 
upon the ground. They ^rought the 
seamless garment which His Mother 
made, and on His bleeding shoulders 
clothed Him once again. With cruel 
violence they pressed the thorns upon 
His brow. They bound Him with their 
ropes around His waist, and as the Ro- 
man trumpets blew they dragged Him 
on. The sun was rising to its noon, 
and yet the sky was like the coming of 
a fearful storm, or as the shadows that 
precede the night. I heard the tramp 
of arms, the shouts that rose on every 
side like voices from the depths of hell. 
I saw the sad procession move. They 
led the way to Calvary. Their spears 
were pointing to the hill. My Blessed 
Lord was passing from my sight. I fell 
upon my knees. I kissed the ground 
His feet had blessed. 1 ran before the 
crowd, and as they pushed Him rudely 



272 GETHSEMANI. 

on I bowed before Him with a yearn- 
ing heart. " Jesus, Master, let me go 
with Thee. Where art Thou guiding 
now Thy broken-hearted child? I will 
follow in Thy steps, and like burning 
flames to Thee my love shall rise. Thy 
footprints crimsoned with Thy blood 
will I adore." He turned and smiled 
on me ; and oh ! for all eternity my 
heart shall treasure up that smile. His 
face was sad and pale. His eyes were 
full of tears. His precious lips were 
trembling as He seemed to say : " I am 
condemned to death. Now let Me look on 
thee. Art thou indeed My spouse ? Then 
pray for grace. I go before thee with My 
staff and rod. The clouds shall cover thee 
in gloom. The waters cold shall swallow 
thee with Me. The mountain-tops shall 
fall, the earth shall quake. The prince of 
fear shall reign. Yet come, My loving 
child ! The Bridegroom leads the sorrow- 
i ng way. The Spirit bids the bride to come." 



Meditation Eighth. 



THE WAY TO CALVARY. 



MEDITATION EIGHTH. 



THE WAY TO CALVABT. 



" I sleep, and my heart watcheth : the voice of my Beloved 
knocking: Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my unde- 
filed : for my head is full of dew, and my locks of the drops of 
the night. 1 '— Canticles v. 2. 

My soul was sad. I heard my Master 
tell of sadness unto death, when in the 
garden He endured the sharpness of His 
woe, when there the shades of sorrow 
covered Him, while thus the heart di- 
vine was broken with the grief. I only 
touched the border of the cloud. My 
feeble sight could only see the outline 
of the shadow dense and drear. The 
little life I had seemed lost in Him, and 
pangs of superhuman pain were blind- 
ing every sense. Yet there in all the 

275 



276 GETHSEMAJSTL 

awful night my Blessed Love was nigh. 
And I was watching then ; and if my 
tears were flowing fast, my weeping was 
for Him. 

But now the fear of parting comes. 
The end draws near. The precious Mas- 
ter of my soul will die ! I know that 
He must die. This fearful hour has 
been my dread. The hour has come ! 
The altar is in sight. The Victim has- 
tens there. The hill of Calvary frowns 
before mine eyes. I see the cross. I see 
the sad yet willing face of my Beloved. 
He goes to death as bridegroom to the 
bridal halls. He bids me follow in His 
steps. The Spirit bids the bride to 
come. How can I go and see Him die, 
and then be left alone? He told me 
that the earth should quake, the sun 
should hide his face, the dead in ghost- 
ly shapes arise. Such darkness has no 
gloom for me. But when He dies in- 
deed, how can I live? How can I bear 



GETHSEMANL 277 

the loneliness when I shall kneel be- 
neath the body of my sacred dead, when 
Calvary's shades shall hide the light of 
earth and heaven ? How can I bear this 
parting from my Love % 

And yet I cannot choose but go. I 
cannot leave Him while He lives, and if 
I die with Him my grateful soul shall 
bless the hour. It is not death I fear, 
surely not a death with Him. I only 
fear I cannot live until He dies. The 
silver cord may break too soon. The 
cloud may blind my eyes and paralyze 
my sense. I may not see Him die. I 
may not catch His parting glance. He 
may' not bid farewell to me, or give me 
once again the smile I love so well. 
Yet must I go. My heart is weak. My 
Kmbs are trembling with my grief. In- 
deed, the waters touch my aching feet. 
I need His staff and rod. While He 
will bear the heavjr cross, He still can 
carry me. Jesus, Master, Love, I come ! 



278 GETHSEMA1STI. 

Lead Thou me on. Put out Thine hands 
divine, and I am strong. 

And I am travelling now the weary, 
sorrowing road, the way that leads to 
Calvary. So treading in my Bride- 
groom's steps I journey on; falling, ris- 
ing, fainting, weeping, I am moving on. 
It is not I. The self I knew is gone. 
I only know one life, and in that life 
I see and hear and feel. The Spirit 
moves my helpless hands and feet. The 
Spirit guides my eyes. The Blessed Spi- 
rit teaches me the riches of my Love, 
unfolds the graces of my Master dear, 
and shows to me the beauties of His 
dying face, the depths of pity infinite 
that draws me to His bleeding arms. 
O mighty Spirit, eternal in Thy reign ! 
come help me in this path of pain. 
Come touch my eyes that they may see. 
Come touch my Kps that they may speak. 

I saw my Jesus standing in the court. 
The sad procession stays a moment there. 



GETHSEMAJNTI. 279 

Dread silence reigns where curse and jeer 
were sounding on the air. They bring 
the heavy cross — the sacred wood for 
which He sighed, the blessed tree that 
bears the fruit of life. Alas ! its awful 
weight will crush His wasted frame. It 
is His burden dear ; the sins of all the 
world are resting there. With rudeness 
vile, with cruel haste, they lay it on His 
shoulders gashed and bleeding from 
the scourge. He staggers helplessly ; 
He trembles fearfully. He can hardly 
bear the weight. His blessed face turns 
icy pale. He gasps for breath. He nearly 
falls. He almost bends unto the ground. 
The edges sharp are opening wide the 
seams upon His back. He lifts His 
weary hands. With loving smile He 
holds the crushing burden as He tries 
to walk. The blood is flowing down. It 
runs upon His arms and hands ; it falls 
upon the ground. He moves with pain. 
At every step the weight seems kill- 



280 GETHSEMANI. 

ing Him. His face is like the face of 
death. 

my loving Lord beneath this bur- 
den dire, how can I comfort Thee, how 
share the heavy sorrows of Thy cross ? 
I saw Him fainting, moving slowly on. 
How can He walk to Calvary ? Snrely 
He will die before the sacred hill be 
reached. I followed in His steps. I 
did not hear the rabble cry. The sol- 
diers marched along with spears uplift- 
ed and the sound of arms. I did not 
hear their words. There was a silence 
deep within my soul. I heard His 
sighs, I saw Him bending 'neath the 
awful load. His face was full of sweet- 
ness as He looked to heaven or turned 
to me. And oh ! the sadness of His 
eyes divine was more than flesh could 
bear. My heart was begging Him to 
speak one w r ord. I knew my sins were 
bearing on His shoulders then. I knew 
that I was crushing down my only Love, 



GETHSEMANT. 281 

that He was taking up my cross. My 
lips were murmuring words of prayer, 
as sadness unto death was filling all my 
soul. Master dear ! I see my sins 
upon Thee now. The weight I could 
not bear is laid on Thee. Oh ! canst 
Thou love me still ? I have not only 
wounded Thee, but here upon Thy bleed- 
ing back I see the awful load of all my 
crimes, of my untruth to Thee. Am I, 
Thy bride, to grieve and hurt the Bride- 
groom so? And did I call Thee Love, 
and thus afflict Thee with my faithless, 
wayward heart ? Alas ! I cannot bear to 
see Thee tremble so beneath the weight 
of my ingratitude ! Tell me, Master 
dear, oh ! canst Thou love me still ? 

He turned and looked on me a mo- 
ment then. His precious face seemed 
very near to mine. I felt the breath 
which struggling came as He essayed 
to speak. There was a look of love, 
like that I saw in Pilate's hall when 



282 GETHSEMANI. 

sorrowing Peter came. I was so drawn 
to touch Him then that I had given 
worlds to kiss IJis wearied feet. I 
know not if I knelt, for I was moving 
slowly on with Him, almost as faint 
as He, and straining all my senses to 
the whisper of His voice. 

" O my precious child ! dost Thou 
ask Me if I love Thee now ? Is not 
this the proof of love ? Dost thou not 
know that I must bear thy cross, that 
I must teach thee how to walk the 
weary road, that I must lead the way 
where spouses of My choice must fol- 
low Me ? All My Loves are led to 
Calvary. There, and only there, the 
lights of earth grow dim ; there, and 
only tli ere, I rule the chastened soul, 
and make the bridal hour the hour of 
sacrifice. Thy sins have hurt Me where 
My bursting heart is bleeding fast. 
They open wide the seams of scourge 
and thong. But I am God, and when 



GETHSEMAJSTI. 283 

the crushing load is breaking Me I 
set thee free. I bear thy griefs, and 
thou art Mine. Thus God alone can 
tell the riches of forgiving love, or know 
how dear becomes the sinner ransomed 
by My blood, made pure by grace, and 
nourished at My breast. Oh ! let thy 
love renew its power to see the awful 
cost of thine espousals to the King of 
saints, the King that lays His heavenly 
purple down, that tracks His steps in 
blood beneath the cross, to celebrate 
in death the nuptial rite, to bind the 
soul forgiven to His everlasting arms, 
to give the sweet embrace of love 
divine. Faint not, my child. I suffer 
awful pangs for thee ; I love thee for 
the pain I bear. It is the sealing ^of the 
eternal bond. Thou art born to Me in 
agony. Thou comest from My open 
side. Thou art the child of Calvary. 
Press onward to thy home." 
I cannot tell how near my Master 



284 GETHSEMAISTI. 

then became to me. His arms, which 
bore the cross, seemed twining round 
my breast. I thought I felt the beating 
of His heart in union strange, to me 
before unknown. I knew He loved me 
then. In sorrow far too deep for 
mortal tongue, my heart was glad with 
joy that lifted me in ecstasy above 
the scenes of time. I turned my tear- 
ful eyes to heaven. I felt the angels 
near. I tried to think of Father, Son, 
and Spirit blest on their eternal seat 
of light ; and clouds of golden hue 
were passing like the vast procession 
of the saints and massing round the 
throne. I thought I saw my Master 
there arrayed in glorious might. The 
cross was there all glittering as the 
sun at noon. The hands and feet were 
wounded, too ; the breast was open- 
ed wide. Where had I wandered, 
then ? Surely this is not the weary 
road. There is no Calvary's mountain 



GETHSEMANI. 285 

here. Was I pressing onward to my 
home? 

Was I selfish, then, to wander so ? I 
had no choice. Some hand unseen 
was guiding me, that I was not the 
master of my will. I only thought of 
Him. I never for an instant lost the 
sight of Jesus bowed beneath the cross, 
bending, fainting, weeping, struggling 
on. 

So suddenly an awful faintness seized 
my heart. The light above was gone. 
It was the height of noon, and yet 
there came the dimness of the night. 
The sharpness of a pain before un- 
felt awoke me to my sight. My bless- 
ed Lord had ceased to move. His 
face had changed. His eyes are fixed. 
His feet are paralyzed. His hands have 
fallen from the cross. His head was 
drooping on His breast. Oh ! He will 
fall beneath that weight and die. 
" Help, angels, help ! O Michael, mighty 



286 GETHSEMANI. 

prince ! come in thy strength. Come, 
Gabriel, in thy gentle ministry. Come, 
Raphael, healer of the weak. Come, 
ye powers that rule the spheres ! The 
Son of God will fall and dash His feet 
against the stones. O my Mother ! 
art thou coming now ? My Master 
told me thou wouldst come. He bade 
me pray to thee and ask to put my 
hands in thine. glorious Queen ! 
where art thou now? My failing eyes 
are seeking thee. Come to take thy 
Child within thine arms ere He shall 
die." 

Alas ! it is too late. My Love has 
fallen as if dead. Prostrate on the 
ground He lies. The heavy cross is 
crushing Him. He cannot move. I can 
scarcely see Him breathe. Oh ! how stiff 
and cold He lies ! His beauteous face 
is whiter than the snow. His glassy 
eyes are fixed. There is no motion ; 
but the tears are slowly running down, 



GETHSEMANI. 287 

and drops of blood are trickling from 
the thorns which pierce His head anew. 
u O my Jesus ! let me come and touch 
Thee now with all the tenderness of 
love. Thou art not dead, I know, for 
here are not the skulls, and this is not 
the hill of sacrifice. Our parting has 
not come. Thou hast fainted with the 
grievous load, but Thou wilt rise again. 
Let me help Thee, Master dear. I am 
so faint myself that I can hardly breathe, 
yet I could give the little strength I 
have to Thee." 

I never prayed as I prayed then. I 
had no life but prayer, yet had I poor- 
ly counted all the cost. When I was 
pressing on, and holding out my hands 
that I might only touch the wearied 
feet, as there so cold they lay upon 
the ground, my tottering limbs refused 
my will, and I fell prostrate by my 
Master's side. At last, I said, the 
hour has come. This is my death, and 



288 GETHSEMA.NI. 

all is over now. There is no Calvary 
for me. I have no strength. Alas ! 
tiow weak I am ! Oh I must all my 
hopes be buried here ? There is no 
cross upon my shoulders now, and yet 
I faint and die ! 

How long endured my seeming death 
I do not know. From faintness to un- 
consciousness I struggled on, and when 
my senses woke my ears were startled 
by the sounds I heard in Pilate's court. 
There were curses loud. There were 
blows. They were beating as before my 
precious Love. They were bidding Him 
to rise with oaths profane. Where 
was I, then ? I thought the trial scene 
was passed. I thought the soldiers led 
Him down the hill. I surely saw the 
cross upon His bleeding shoulders as 
He fell. 

Awake, my soul ! awake to see and 
hear. Bid every sense arouse. The 
Mother of the King is coming now in 



GETHSEMAKI. 289 

all lier grace to aid your feebleness. 
The Queen of Sorrows rules on Calvary. 
You could not move without her help. 
No soul can watch upon the mountain 
drear, unless she hide him in her man- 
tle pure, and hold his hands amid the 
phantoms of the grave where Jesus 
lies. 

There came a gentle ray upon my 
utter darkness then, and my uncon- 
sciousness was passing like the sha- 
dows at the dawn. There came a peace 
within my soul, and scales were falling 
from my eyes. I knew the source of 
all this blessed light. I saw the beau- 
teous form of her I love with all my 
heart for Jesus' sake. She is my Mo- 
ther dear. I owe my life to her. She 
did put her hand upon my darkened 
eyes, did win me by her gentleness, did 
lead me to her Child, and teach me 
how to love my God. O Mother of my 
soul ! thou art coming now in this my 



290 GETHSEMANI. 

dire distress. I will take thee to my 
prostrate Lord. See, here He lies as 
faint and weak as death, and yet I 
know He is not dead. Oh ! come, my 
Mother, with thy angels bright. Bring 
Gabriel ever at thy side. We will 
draw near my dying Love, and if thy 
precious hands shall touch Him He 
will rise. The priceless days of Beth- 
lehem and Nazareth come back to 
Him beneath His cross. Thy loving 
arms shall once again assuage His tears 
and fold Him to thy breast. I ran 
with eager haste, with all the confi- 
dence of Mary's child. But oh! how 
changed that dear and gentle face ! 
She came upon the scene with all the 
grandeur of a queen. The Magdalen 
was weeping at her side, and John was 
guiding her with loving words. I could 
not hear his voice. He trembled as he 
tried to hold her up, while his pure 
eyes were fall of tears. The Virgin 



GETHSEMAIVTI. 291 

stood as if the clouds were rolling 
'neath her feet, as if she stood on space, 
with air of majesty to reign. She mov- 
ed with fixed and eager gaze. In every 
line and feature sorrow spoke, the sor- 
row which is unto death. The glowing 
beauty of the skies was covered with a 
pall. The eyes that seemed like mir- 
rors of the heavenly light were red 
with tears, and opened wide as if to 
see some horrid, crushing sight. Her 
hands so white and fair were folded on 
her breast, as if to hold the heart that 
ached and struggled with her grief. 
Oh ! cried I in utter woe, what can I 
do ? How can I bear the crucifixion of 
my Lord, and of His Mother too ? 
Then, ever gentle as the heart from 
which she draws her grace, she looked 
at me and motioned me to come. She 
seemed to say: "My chosen child, the 
lover of my Jesus dear, come here to 
me. I see the ring upon thy hand. I 



292 GETHSEMAISTI. 

see the marks upon thy brow. Art 
thou the spouse of iny Beloved, who 
here has called thee to the nuptial rite ? 
Dost thou love Him with all thy soul 1 
Is He in truth thy Bridegroom pure ? 
Then come and take my hand. My 
Son has told me of thy name. He 
bade me lead thee here where flesh 
must fail. . Thou must weep with me. 
I am a victim at this altar, too, but I 
will hold thee up within the awful 
night. And thou shalt keep with me 
the vigil drear, the fearful watch on 
Calvary. Come near me, child. I love 
thee with a mother's tenderness. Thy 
griefs are mine, and we are one, for Je- 
sus is our all. But oh 1 the sword is 
piercing now my very soul. Pray, pray 
with all your strength, and leave me 
not a moment here. Together w r e shall 
go this road of sorrows that shall break 
the heart of God and mine. When my 
hand grows cold, then hold it fast. 



GETHSEMA1NT. 293 

When I tremble fearfully, as if to die, 
then be thou brave and show thy love. 
See here, my Jesus calls ! He rises 
from the ground, so pale, so weak. He 
looks at me through tears with love I 
know full well. It is my God whom I 
adore. It is my Child, my very flesh 
and blood. I must go to Him ; come 
thou with me." 

I turned to follow her, and then in- 
deed my constancy was tried. My Mas- 
ter, risen from His swoon beneath the 
cross, was seeking her with eyes that 
spoke a tenderness no mortal tongue 
can tell. I never saw Him look as then. 
His face was paler than the dead. His 
hands so weak were feeling for the 
cross. It seemed as if His feet were 
swollen and His limbs were paralyzed. 
He staggered as He stood, and as the 
bleeding shoulders bent to take again 
the cruel load. The blood was trick- 
ling down His arms and hands, and 



294 GETHSEMAEX 

running from the thorny crown. The 
royal brow was marked with many 
wounds. The hair was clotted with the 
mire and blood , while spittle still defil- 
ed the beauty of His face. Then as 
one dead, and yet the Prince of life, He 
stood, as if He held the angel back un- 
til His hour should come. 

The piteous look He gave was more 
than I could bear. I hid mine eyes be- 
neath the mantle of my Queen, and sob- 
bed with her. Her precious hand grew 
cold indeed. I held it fast, but mine 
was like the ice, and yet I clasped with 
all my strength the fingers dear that so 
entwined themselves in mine. She trem- 
bled like the flowers that break before 
the storm and scatter to the winds of 
heaven. Convulsions like the agonies of 
death were shaking every limb, while 
sighs were coming from her panting 
breast, and tears ■ were flowing like the 
rain. Surely, Mother dear, I cried. 



GETHSEMANI. 295 

your hour has come. You cannot live 
to see this sight. Where, then, shall 
hide your helpless child? O blessed 
Queen ! I cannot let thee die. We 
must wait until He dies. He cannot go 
alone to Calvary. You must lead me 
there, and teach me how to kneel be- 
neath the cross. 

She sprang from me as if for life. 
Oh ! let me go, she cried. This is my 
place. Oh ! let me touch my Son once 
more. I must soothe His pain with 
my caress. My hands shall ease the an- 
guish He endures, and gently touch the 
gaping wounds of scourge and thorn 
and cross. My kiss shall wipe the 
tears away, and I will take the spittle 
and the mire. It will give Him 
strength to feel the pressure of my 
lips. He is my own, my babe of Beth- 
lehem. This flowing blood is mine. 
These eyes are mine. These swollen 
lips are mine. I am a mother now, and 



296 GETHSEMANI. 

I will go to Him. No spear nor sword 
shall keep me from my Child. I care 
not for the curse or oath. I care not 
for their cruel violence to me. My mo- 
ther's heart is bleeding now. There is 
no creature love like mine. 

My dearest Mother ran from me, but 
all in vain. I saw my Jesus lift His 
tearful face, and all the love of heaven 
was beaming in His swollen eyes. This 
is the glance which makes the bliss of 
saints. It spoke to her who knew its 
meaning well ; and she, who treasured 
every change upon the face divine, saw 
how the heart of God was hers by ties 
before unknown. And this was more 
than all the kisses of His mouth. It 
told of deeper love than all the child- 
hood's happy hours. Though held by 
rude and ruffian hands, yet was she 
nearer to her Child than when He nes- 
tled in her fond embrace. 

Oh! how I loved my Master then, as 



GETHSEMAISTI. 297 

thus I saw His heart revealed and saw- 
in that exchange of tenderness the Mo- 
ther and the Son. 

She feasted on that glance. She read 
its lesson well, and then, with hands 
outstretched, she sprang to hold Him 
to her breast. Her lips were moving 
to the words, "My Son, my God, Thy 
loving Mother comes." And then I 
saw the soldiers turn their spears and 
push her back. I saw the crowd rush 
in with rudeness coarse. She seemed 
in agony that robs the sense of life. 
She neither heard nor saw. I know not 
if she felt. For like a corpse she fell 
upon the ground, while there the furi- 
ous rabble closed around, and with an 
oath they forced my Jesus on. 

They beat Him with their whips as 
then He struggled to obey. He saw 
His Mother fall, and bent beneath the 
cross as if some awful pang was pierc- 
ing Him anew. I never saw Him look 



298 - GETHSEMAKI. 

so sad, not even in the garden's shade 
when, holding with His hands His heart, 
He wept like one bereft of all. He 
looked upon the fallen form of her He 
held so dear, and turned His face away, 
while sobs seemed stifling Him and 
tears were flowing like the rain. For 
once He lifted up His eyes to heaven ; 
then, looking forward to the hill of Cal- 
vary, He staggered on. 

I knelt beside my blessed Mother's 
side, and wept and prayed. Oh ! how 
beautiful she seemed in her sad death. 
I kissed her cold and helpless hands. 
I called her by her dearest name. I 
begged the spirits of the light to come. 
I asked for Raphael's healing power. 
I prayed that Gabriel's soothing hands 
might touch her prostrate form ; for 
well I knew that she must rise, that 
she must stand on Golgotha and there 
teach me to watch, and there receive 
the dying glances of her Child. 



GETHSEMANI. 299 

The crowd passed on and we were 
left alone. Some gentle air of paradise 
like life divine seemed coming then. I 
felt the presence of the angels there, 
and bowed my head in praise. She 
moved at last. The sighs came pour- 
ing from her breast. She loosed her 
hands from mine and laid them on her 
heart. She moved her lips in prayer. 
I heard her ask for strength. "O 
Jesus dear, my Child! Thy Mother's 
heart is pierced indeed. Many are the 
shadows I have seen ; Thy chalice drear 
has been my portion, too, but now the 
end is near. The cross shall hold us 
both. Thy weary way is mine. Thy 
nails shall pierce my hands and feet. 
The spear that touches Thee shall find 
its home within my breast. I tell it 
not to angels drooping at my side. The 
Cherubim can wonder at my woe, but 
Thou alone, my God, canst read my 
agony. For far above all finite powers 



300 GETHSEMANI. 

my grief is hidden in the love I have 
for Thee, the love the seraph's bright 
intelligence may praise, the love which 
no created intellect may know. O 
Jesus mine ! as we were ever one, so 
now the deeper bond shall bind ns fast 
for all eternity. The cross shall be our 
tie, the wounds within Thy precious 
hands and feet and opened breast, the 
seals of union strange, before impossi- 
ble. The drops of blood that fall upon 
Thy Mother now shall lift her up be- 
yond the sea of glass. I answer to 
Thy grace, my Child. I am coming 
now ! I will not fall again. The spear 
already in my heart shall there abide. 
Forgive my tears, forget my sighs. 
The sorrowing Mother comes to take 
her place. She will be with Thee unto 
the last. Her truth shall be Thy rest 
when all things fail. The incense of 
her heart shall rise to Thee when 
angels' harps are mute. Her love shall 



GETHSEMAKI. 301 

linger on Thy passing breath and speed 
Thy spirit to its home above. Her 
hands shall yet embrace her Child in 
death, and leave Him in the silent 
tomb. O Love divine ! assist me now ; 
the Queen of Martyrs comes." 

So when my precious Mother spoke 
these words there came a calm upon 
her agonizing face. She raised her 
head, while light unearthly shone upon 
her features pale. Her eyes, so like 
her Child's, were looking straight to 
heaven, as if this earth with all its 
scenes had passed away. She rose, but 
not alone. I knew the angels of her 
train were at her side. In worship 
high, in reverential fear, I bowed and 
blessed the spirits of the heavenly court 
who came at her command. "O Mary, 
Mother blest ! the seraphs come to greet 
thee in fhy passion's hour. Their arms 
shall hold thee up ; their wings of light 
sustain the Mother of their God. Yet 



302 GETHSEMAJSTL 

canst thou look on me again so feebly 
kneeling here, thou Queen of all the 
hosts above ? While I am here, so little 
and so low, the angels move obedient 
to thy will. Oh! may I touch thy 
hand again and tell thee of my love i 
And will the glorious Queen of Heaven 
now guide my steps, and lead me on, 
and teach me how to keep my vigil 
drear among the skulls, in nature's dire 
eclipse, beneath the cross?" 

I turned my trembling face. The 
Virgin stood as on a cloud which 
angels held beneath her feet. She look- 
ed at me and smiled through tears. It 
seemed as if my Jesus smiled, so close- 
ly did her face resemble His. All His 
beauty, all His gentleness, and all His 
grace were in that smile. She gave her 
precious hand to me. She clasped my 
hand in hers. "My child," she said, 
"how little you can know the heart of 
your Beloved in all its wealth of ten- 



GETHSEMANI. 803 

derness ! You cannot even know liow 
dear to me are souls espoused by Him, 
or liow the torrent of His love overflows 
witliin my breast. I cherish, you be- 
cause you are His spouse, because you 
wear His nature too. Your features, 
too, redeemed and washed in blood, are 
like to His. The seraph's nature He 
did not espouse. Below the ranks of 
spirits blest He stooped to be my Son, 
to die and live for you. I see His 
marks upon your brow. I see in you 
my own, my Jesus as He lives in you. 
Come, then, with me. My broken heart 
shall be your guide. The Victim of the 
cross is moving on, and Calvary's hill 
is frowning at us there. The hour of 
crucifixion comes. The knell of death 
is sounding in my ears." 

And then the cloud that seemed to 
rest beneath her feet moved slowly 
down the steep descent. I held her 
trembling hand and hid myself within 



304 GETHSEMANI. 

lier mantle's folds. The blessed John 
was walking at her side as if with 
painful steps, and Magdalen transfixed 
with fear, as if the fountains of her 
blood were frozen in her breast. Then, 
when we reached the foot of the 
descent and saw the path that climbs 
to Calvary, the mob had stopped its 
speed. The soldiers seemed alarmed. 
Their spears were held at rest. And 
they were calling loud with oaths for 
help. My precious Love had fallen 
once again beneath the cross. I could 
not see His form nor face. I did not 
dare to look at Mary then, she trembled 
so. I pressed her icy hand and tried 
to speak in signs my truest sympatic 
My own poor heart had broken long- 
ago, but what was grief like mine to 
hers? I tried to part the Mother's 
mantle folds, that I might see. Oh ! 
will my Blessed One arise again ? If 
He hath fainted now, how can the 



GETIISEMAJNTI. 305 

height of Golgotha be reached ? The 
shadow of the awful hill is here. This 
cannot be His dying bed! 

And then I prayed for grace. My 
Mother's life seemed passing into mine. 
Her all-availing lips were moving with 
my words. The crowd was pressing up 
the hill. The spears were mounting the 
ascent. And there before me stood an- 
other with my Master's cross. He was 
wrestling with the heavy load, and, 
though the blood was rushing to his face, 
his features seemed suffused with joy. 
How strange it was to see that cross upon 
another laid, that blessed wood already 
moistened with the saving blood ! O 
happy lot to bear the burden for my 
Love, to stand an instant in His place ! 
And I was weak enough to wish that I 
had been this chosen soul, that I had 
been so blest to soothe my Master's 
weary way, and feel upon my shoul- 
ders, too, a portion of His cross. It was 



306 GETHSEMANI. 

my foolish love that counted not the 
cost, nor knew how little is my strength 
to suffer or to die. 

And now before me stands the hill 
of Calvary. The soldiers lead the way. 
The happy Simon struggles with his 
load. His strength is failing as he 
mounts the steep ascent, and yet the 
burden grows more dear at every step. 
My Blessed Master walks with pain, 
as if His limbs were dislocated by the 
fall. I tried in vain to see His face. 
His head was bowed upon His breast. 
His breathing came with sighs. The 
road, was rough, the stones were sharp. 
His feet were bare and bleeding, as if 
bruised with many wounds. His hands 
were bound. We passed the gate of 
judgment then. The soldiers' spears 
were forcing back the crowd. Beyond 
the line of staves and swords I saw a 
little company of friends. The matrons 
of Judea and maidens fair had come 



GETHSEMAISTI. 307 

to weep with plaintive tears. They 
saw the hands in fetters vile that 
blessed their homes, that healed their 
sick. The face that smiled upon their 
sorrowing hearts was pale with agon* 
izing pain. The thorny crown had 
pierced the bone, and blood with water 
ran from every point, while tears were 
coursing down, and mire and spittle 
filled the swollen mouth. He turned 
His head. His lips were trembling so 
that He could hardly speak. They 
moved convulsively in prayer. I 
thought I heard Him call His Mother's 
name in faintest tones. He surely 
tried to see her face. I thought He 
asked that she might touch Him then, 
that her dear hands might rest upon 
His aching brow or wipe away the 
clotted blood, the spittle and the mire. 
The hour of death was near. Might 
not the Mother once again prepare her 
Child for sleep % Before the nails were 



308 GETHSEMANT. 

driven, before the awful wounds w T ere 
made, might not her touch compose 
the limbs and features of her only Son % 
Oh ! how she trembled then ! Her hand 
was colder than the grave. I did not 
dare to look upon her tearful face. I 
know not how she quickened then her 
faltering steps, as we rushed on unmind- 
ful of the angry crowd, unmindful of 
the oaths that gave response to every 
sigh or tear. So we had nearly reached 
the summit of the mount where skulls 
were strewn around, where bones in 
nauseous decay polluted all the air. 
It seemed the opening of a charnel- 
house with all the sickening odor of 
corrupting flesh. This was the dying 
bed of Mary's Child, the Word of God! 
The Blessed Mother seemed so faint 
that even I was overwhelmed with fear 
that she would die! She fell upon her 
knees and lifted up her eyes to heaven. 
It seemed the bonds of flesh were break- 



GETHSEMANI. 309 

iug then ; that she had knelt among 
the skulls to yield her agonizing soul 
to God. I never heard such sighs ; I 
never saw such tears. " O Mother 
dear ! " I cried, u oh ! leave me not ! The 
love of innocence is here. The love of 
penitence is at thy side. The end is 
close at hand. I cannot here abide 
without thy strength. I cannot see 
Him die alone. Thou art kneeling now% 
as pale as death. I would that I could 
comfort thee in this thy martyrdom. 
But I am very weak. I can only give 
thee love, the heart that breaks with 
thine. Oh ! let me help thee up and we 
will see our Jesus yet ; and once again 
thine eyes shall feast on His. Perhaps 
the cruel mob will give thee place, will 
grant a mother's right, and thou shalt 
touch His hands and feet, and with thy 
lips shalt kiss Him ere He dies. O 
thou dearest, holiest of the race of man, 
thou virgins' Queen, the Mistress of the 



310 GETHSEMAISTI. 

skies ! who can dispute tliy sway ? The 
spears must fall at thy command, and 
thou shalt rule on Golgotha. Oh ! let us 
come ; I know the Master calls. I feel 
the beating of His heart in thine. Cour- 
age, Mother dear ! for we shall see Him 
soon." 

She looked at me with terror in her 
face, and spoke with faint and trembling 
words : ' ' You cannot see, my child. 
Our Blessed Love has fallen once again, 
and when I knelt he fell. Listen to the 
whips wherewith they beat Him now. 
Oh ! hear the curses that resound ! They 
call Him fallen King. They bid Him 
rise and wear His crown. And T must 
kneel and pray. I cannot rise until 
they lift Him up. See, here the holy 
woman conies to me. She beareth here 
the awful picture of my Child. The 
Mother could not touch the sorrowing 
face, but she receiveth now the offering 
of His love. And He who is so dear to 



GETHSEMAHI. 311 

me ha tli sent by her this image of my 
dying Son. Oh ! let as look upon that 
face, so bruised and torn. See here 
the gashes of the thorns, the marks of 
clotted blood, the courses of the tears. 
Behold the anguish of that brow, the 
lacerated cheeks, the swollen mouth. 

my Blessed Child ! I take Thy gift, 
and I will teach Thy spouses dear to 
keep the watches of their love, to dwell 
with me upon the treasure of Thy 
wounds. O precious face ! I know it 
well ! 1 know its every line. Full well 

1 read the features of my darling Son. 
Oh ! who but God can see the pain, the 
anguish written there? Come kneel 
with me and here adore the precious 
blood. Before this agonizing face let 
innocence its incense bring, let sinners' 
tears but freely flow. The beauty un- 
created and the light of heaven are hid- 
den here. The smile of pardon is the 
pang of pain ; the gifts of grace are 



312 GETHSEMANI. 

bruises here. Oh ! let us read that face 
a moment now before we kneel around 
the cross, before we strain our fainting 
eyes to catch its dying glance. I have 
not here a mother's right. I cannot 
touch my darling Child until He dies, 
until they lay the cold and mangled 
body in my arms, and Bethlehem's min- 
istries return beneath the shadow of 
the cross. Yet there I shall be once 
myself again, shall take my Love unto 
my breast, shall all the ghastly wounds 
adore, shall kiss the dearest lips with 
all the ardor of a mother's heart. And 
even now I seem to feel that touch, and 
even now before me lies the garden of 
His grave. See here, my child, He rises 
from His fall. The cross again is on 
His shoulders laid. He mounts the 
summit of the hill. The weary road is 
ended now. Hear you not the fearful 
sound that cometh from the caverns of 
the deep? Feel you not the quaking 



GETHSEMAKI. 313 

of the earth as if with living horror 
moved? And see you not the angry 
clouds that are the curtains of the sky ? 
See, nature mourns the dying of its 
Prince. See the awful pall that covers 
all created things. 

"Oh! let us come. The hour is nigh. 
Some power unseen is bearing me be- 
yond my strength. I see no angels 
here, and yet I feel their might. They 
hold me up. They stretch their wings 
beneath my feet. The wound within 
my heart is open now and bleeding 
fast. The Mother's blood is calling to 
the Son's. Oh ! let us hasten for the 
end. Faint not, my trembling child ; 
these awful hours will try your faith 
and love. Beneath my mantle hide ; 
hold fast my hand and follow me." 

I lifted up my eyes, so red with tears, 
to see if I could catch my Mother's 
glance as thus she bade me come. 
The strangest beauty crowned her brow, 



314 GKETHSEMANI. 

and yet it was unlike the glory of the 
past. It seemed the beauty of a soul 
that sinks to death in majesty divine. 
It was a dying face, and yet the image 
of celestial life. My hand was cold as 
hers, and as I clasped her fingers dear 
I felt the earthly life was leaving me ; 
and yet a newer, better vigor came 
with every breath. I remember naught 
but this, as together we came near the 
summit of the hill, and found our way 
among the stones and skulls of Gol- 
gotha. I was lifting up my heart to 
heaven. I was looking for my Love. 
The precious name was on my lips. I 
begged that I might see Him yet before 
His death, to tell Him of my truth, 
that I had kept my word, that I was 
watching to the last. He seemed so 
near me then, although I saw Him not. 
O Mother dear ! I cried, how gladly 
would I die, if I might hold thy pre- 
cious hand ; if He, my All, might be so 



GETHSEMA1STI. 315 

near ! The sweetness of His heart is 
killing me. I hear the voice that open- 
eth heaven. He calleth me with tender- 
est names. He saith to me: "My 
sister and My love, My dove, My unde- 
tiled, open all thine heart. My head is 
full of dew, is aching for thy breast. 
The drops of blood have crimsoned all 
My hair. See how I lie upon the cross, 
outstretched upon the ground. I bear 
the blessed wood no more. The tree 
of life, it beareth Me. My way of sor- 
rows past, the altar takes the sacrifice. 
Oh ! listen now. They bring Me vinegar 
and gall. I see the nails ; with My 
own will stretch out My hands and 
place My feet. The Lamb of God is 
ready now." 

I turned to speak. " Dearest Mother 
of my Lord, oh ! hast thou heard these 
sweetest words ? He never spoke to me 
like this before. He draws me so that 
I can hardly live. Oh ! I must go and 



316 GETHSEMATTI. 

fall beside Him as He lies, and I must 
tell Him of my love and kiss His feet 
again. Oh ! who can hold me here '? 
Oh ! who can tear me from His side ? 
Oh ! let me go and die with Him. I 
do not love thee less — indeed, I love 
thee more ; but He is All to me." 

"My child," I heard her say, "I 
bless thee for thy heart, which here 
awakes in life that cometh from the 
cross. How gladly would I go and die 
with Him, and lead thee to the altar 
now ! The death within His bleeding 
arms is paradise indeed. When He is 
gone how shall the Mother live, and 
what is earth to her who weeps a Child 
divine ? And yet I have no will but 
His. I take my chalice,, too. My heart 
is pierced with His. My hands and 
feet are nailed. I lie beside Him on the 
cruel wood. 

"See the ruffians crowd around. See 
the bristling spears. The fearful work 



GETHSEMANI. 317 

is going on. No friend can pass. Oh ! 
listen to the awful sound. Above the 
jeer, above the laugh, the hammers 
strike upon my breast. My fainting 
nerves are yielding to the spikes that 
pierce them through. O Jesus mine 1 
how can Thy Mother bear this pang ? 
I hear Thy sighs ; I feel the tremor of 
Thy frame. The faintness that oppress- 
eth Thee is killing me. Oh ! let me 
fall upon my face while Thou art lying 
there. The Mother's sobs ascend with 
Thine. The Mother's heart is crucified 
at last." 

Prostrate on the ground I saw my 
glorious Queen. Her groans awoke me 
from my foolish, selfish dream. " What 
can I do for thee, my Mother dear ? I 
did not mean to leave thee in thy woe. 
I only asked that thou wouldst guide 
me to my Jesus' feet." And then there 
came a sickness at my heart, and I had 
fallen too. Of all that passed the 



318 GETHSEMAM. 

memory is gone save only this. My 
soul was filled with prayer that gather- 
ed all my powers in one. I saw my 
Master lying on His cross among the 
skulls. I watched His bed of death. I 
marked the wounds that held Him 
fast. I saw the dislocated limbs, and 
tried to fix upon my heart the features 
of His precious face. I counted all the 
thorns that pierced His brow, the 
bruises on His cheeks. I treasured up 
the tremors of His mouth, and even 
looked within His blessed eyes. It was 
my foolish prayer, and yet I thought 
as He lay there, and tears were falling 
fast, He looked at me and smiled. And 
oh ! that smile will never fade from 
memory's page. Shall I see it once 
again? Jesus, Master of my soul, Be- 
loved of my heart, oh ! shall I see it 
when I die ? 

When I came back to consciousness 
the scene was changed. It was as dark 



GETHSEMANI. 319 

as night on Calvary. Around me 
torches gleamed. The soldiers' spears 
were standing full at rest. An awful 
stillness reigned. The crowd had pass- 
ed away. Our vigil had begun, and we 
were watchers at our Jesus' feet. The 
mournful Mother stood beneath the 
cross as priestess at the sacrifice. One 
hand she held upon her breaking heart ; 
the other pointed to her Child. The 
blessed John was weeping at her side, 
and Magdalen had fallen prostrate on 
the ground. The cross was trembling 
with His dying pangs, and He was 
lifted up on high and hanging by His 
wounds. 

And I was kneeling at my Mother's 
side, and we were there alone. She 
held my hand in hers ; she called me 
child. I hid my grief within her man- 
tle's folds, and heard her tearful, faint- 
ing voice: "This is the end. Our 
weary road leads here. All sorrows 



320 GETHSEMANI. 

drear find here their resting-place, and 
every light that shines is guiding to 
the Cross. For this the voice of Gabriel 
speaks. For this the angels sang on 
Bethlehem's heights. For this the three- 
and-thirty years of blessed union with 
the Word made flesh. For this the 
joys of motherhood divine. For this 
I laid Him on my heart and nursed 
Him at my breast. For this were 
every fond caress, and every kiss, and 
every smile. This is the centre of the 
earth redeemed. Behold Him lifted up. 
See how He draweth all things to Him- 
self. This is the heavenly Bride- 
groom's throne. Here souls espoused 
to Him come home, here celebrate 
the nuptial rite. Within these shades 
I reign. I rule where earth departs, 
and in the midnight of the soul I 
come as Queen. I lead thee to my 
Child when thou hast learned to cru- 
cify thyself with Him. His parting 



GETHSEMANI. 321 

breath shall bind thee to His side, and 
thus on Calvary the bridal train shall 
come. Oh ! see how dark it is. The 
sun hath ceased to shine. The stars 
are hidden in the blackened sky. The 
earth is trembling in its fear, and Na- 
ture sends from every side her fune- 
ral song. The King, the eternal Son, 
will meet the iron sceptre of the grave, 
and He will die. 

"Draw nearer to tho cross. I lead 
you there. See how the blood is run- 
ning down. See how each struggling 
breath is pain. Look up with all your 
love, with all your faith. Adore the 
Bridegroom of your heart. Pay Him 
your vows, and then the watches of 
your vigil keep. The darkness shall 
increase until the noon of an unearth- 
ly night ; but wait in prayer, abide 
with me, and you shall see the twi- 
light of the dawn." 

I lifted up my weary eyes. At first 



322 GETHSEMA^I. 

I could not see. There was an awful 
silence in my soul. I heard the sobs 
of Magdalen, the sighs of John, the 
painful breathing of my precious 
Queen, as there in all her deathlike 
majesty' she stood. I heard the groans 
that came so faintly from the trem- 
bling cross. Oh 1 how my Love was 
suffering then ! Oh ! that my eyes 
might see Him once again, and say 
farewell, when lips could form no 
words, and every sense was dumb, 
Jesus, Master mine, Thou heavenly 
Spouse, oh! give me grace to see. I 
care not for the clouds. The light of 
day would mock my grief. But in this 
night touch Thou my sight, and let 
me look again upcn my only Love. 
For here my Mother leads me with her 
gentle hand, and here I plight to Thee 
my everlasting truth. 

I know not how His mercy heard 
my prayer. The darkness deepened 



GETHSEMAISTI. 323 

until it seemed that light was dead; 
and then upon the background of a 
superhuman night I saw the royal cross, 
the pale and agonizing form of my 
Beloved. At first I saw the bleeding 
feet. The cruel spike had pierced 
them well. The awful wound was red 
and swollen round the nail. Convul- 
sions from the fearful pain were tearing 
wide the ragged gash. I kissed them 
with my heart. I could not touch 
them with my mouth. The limbs were 
thin and pale, and stained with blood, 
and all the bones seemed dislocated, so 
that every tremor was a pang. I saw 
the precious hands that wiped away 
my tears, the arms divine that often 
held me in a fond embrace. Oh ! they 
were strained and bleeding, too. The 
hands were clasping fast the nails, and 
they were white as death. The breast 
where mercy finds its royal throne was 
panting as if life would go. Now there 



324 GETHSEMANI. 

came a breath with anguish keen, and 
then a moment all was still. The 
sacred Heart was beating with the 
speed of light, and then its awful 
struggles ceased. There came a ghast- 
ly paleness, as if death had come. The 
dear, the precious face was peaceful 
as the calm of God, and patience reign- 
ed where pain had reached its height. 
My Love was surely dying now. The 
head is drooping down. The locks 
are filled with dew and mire and blood. 
The thorny crown has pierced the 
brow. The mouth is open wide. The 
lips are parched and blue. The bless- 
ed eyes are sometimes closed, and 
when the trembling eyelids part the 
look is far away from earth. Sometimes 
the lips are moving as to words, and 
yet I hear no sound. 

So as I looked it seemed to me that 
I was growing nearer to my Lord. I 
could not rest. I could not still my 



GETHSEMAISTI. 325 

prayer. " Jesus, Master, Love ! " I 
cried, " accept my vows. This is the 
bridal hour. Behold Thy spouse for 
ever Thine and only Thine ! Oh ! let 
the nuptial rite proceed." 

I looked with all my love upon His 
bruised and mangled face. I held my 
hands upon my heart and wept. I 
thought the precious eyes were opened 
once. I thought they smiled. I saw 
new tears run down. I thought He 
bowed His head to me, and looked as 
if He heard my vow and made me 
there His own. 

And then the awful cloud returned. 
The blackness came again. So kneel- 
ing at His feet I fell, and all my sight 
was gone. 

The shadows deepened on my heart 
till sadness worse than death was quench- 
ing all the springs of life. My foolish 
love had hoped to see His dying face, 
had even prayed to be with Him unto 



326 GETHSEMANI. 

the last. But now I cannot live ; I can- 
not raise my head. I do not dare to 
look again. How can I see the dearest 
Master of my soul in such an awful 
death ? I cannot go away ; and yet I 
cannot bear the torture of this awful 
scene. He is my Grod ! He is my All. 
He is my only Love. How can I see 
Him die? 

Oh ! who will hold me up, that soul 
and body do not part, that grief like 
mine consume me not before His part- 
ing breath % If I could live until He 
dies, and then with Him depart from 
earth, my only prayer would rise like 
incense to the blood-stained feet. But 
oh ! I know He is not dying now, and 
yet my little strength is going fast ; my 
breath is failing me ; my breaking heart 
has ceased to beat. O Mother of my 
Love ! come near. Oh ! let me touch 
thee once again. If I may feel thy pre- 
cious hand once more, my wasting life 



GETHSEMANI. 327 

may yet return, and I may yet with thee 
this vigil keep. Oh ! help me, Mother 
blest, and I will be thy child by ties of 
blood. Together shall our hearts be 
bleeding here ; together shall we watch 
on Calvary. 

I did not know how near to me my 
glorious Queen was weeping then. I 
felt the peace her gentle presence brings. 
I felt the pressure of her loving hand. 
My soul was calmed. My grief was more 
intense, and yet I seemed to rest, while 
peace, the peace of God, was reigning in 
my pangs. My feverish pulses paused ; 
the anxious panting of my breath had 
ceased, and in its agony my heart was 
lying still. And then I heard her voice 
in tearful tones: " My child, the school 
of love is here, the school that teacheth 
to endure. The night is just begun. 
Through awful shades, through sweat of 
blood, through every pain that tries the 
soul, that crushes nerve and flesh, our 



328 GETHSEMANI. 

heavenly Master leads. There is no pang 
He beareth not, no grief He tasteth not. 
He dieth as a king ; He dieth as a G-od. 
The crown of thorns He weareth to the 
end, and bows His royal head as Prince 
of life and death. 

" Deeper, darker will the shadows grow. 
The midnight horror yet shall come. It 
shall be colder than the grave, and every 
light but His shall die. The child that 
seeks to keep his vigils here mnst bid 
farewell to all created things, must come 
to lie beneath the funeral pall, must 
come to seek a burial place among the 
skulls. Only Jesus here, and Jesus on 
His cross ! For I shall hide myself be- 
hind the clouds, and in the unearthly 
gloom shall only point to Him. Behold 
my Child, thy Bridegroom and thy King ! 

"■I see how cold thou art. Thy hand 
is trembling so that I can hardly hold it 
still. This is indeed the place of death. 
Here all of earth must die. Oh ! wrap 



GETHSEMANT. 329 

thyself within thy shroud and listen to 
the marriage-bells. So faintly sounding 
now, they tell thee of thy death in Him 
thy Life. That death is pain. That 
death is sweet. The icy grave is por- 
tal to the palace of thy Spouse. The 
wounded hands are waiting for thy last 
caress. The mangled feet will lead thee 
to thy home. The bruised and bleeding 
face will smile when thou art dead to 
all but Him. The precious lips are 
yearning for thy loving kiss. 

u O cruel death! thou reignest here. 
O Life of God that in this desert drear, 
amid the gloom where sun nor stars can 
shine, shalt rise in worlds of bliss to 
people heaven with virgin souls, with 
spouses of the Lamb ! ' ' 

My dearest Mother ceased her blessed 
message to my dying heart. I kissed 
her hand with all the ardor of a new- 
born life. Some mighty grace was mov- 
ing in this deep of nightt I felt the 



330 GETHSEMANI. 

change that came so strangely then. 
For surely it was like a death, and yet 
it was a birth ! I did not know myself. 
I only knew I held my Mother's hand 
and passed away where, in a w r orld un- 
known, I saw my Jesus Crucified, and 
Him alone. 



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